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THE 

Yellowplush 

Papers 


PHILADELPHIA 
HENRY ALTEMLIS COMPANY 



GIFT 

ESTATE OF 
VICTOR S. CLARK 
SEPT. 3, 1946 

THE LIBRARY OF CONGflfSf 


X 



CONTENTS, 


Miss Shum’s Husband 5 

The Amours of Mr. Deuceace: 

Dimond Cut Dimond 41 

Foring Parts 70 

Mr. Deuceace at Paris: 

Chap. I. The Two Bundles of Hay 90 

II. “Honor Thy Father” 100 

III. Minewvring Ill 

IV. “Hitting the Nale on the Hedd” 126 

Y. The Griffin’s Claws 133 

VI. The Jewel 139 

VII. The Consquiusies 153 

VIII. The End of Mr. Deuceace ’s History. 

Limbo 160 

IX. The Marriage 187 

X. The Honeymoon 191 

Mr. Yellowplush’s Ajew 207 



The Yellowplush Papers. 


MISS SHUM’S HUSBAND. 


CHAPTER I. 

I was bom in the year one, of the present or 
Christian hera, and am, in consqints, seven- 
and-thirty years old. My mamma called me 
Charles James Harrington Fitzroy Yellow- 
plush, in compliment to several noble families, 
and to a sellybrated coachman whom she knew, 
who wore a yellow livry, and drove the Lord 
Mayor of London. 

Why she gev me this genlmn’s name is a 
diffiklty, or rayther the name of a part of his 
dress ; however, it’s stuck to me through life, in 
which I was, as it were, a footman by buth. 

Praps he was my father — though on this sub- 
jict I can’t speak suttinly, for my ma wrapped 
up my buth in a mistry. I may be illygitmit, 
I may have been changed at nuss; but I’ve al- 
ways had genlmnly tastes through life, and 


6 The Yellowplush Papers. 

have no doubt that I come of a genlmnly ori- 
gum. 

The less I say about my parint the better, for 
the dear old creatur was very good to me, and, 
I fear, had very little other goodness in her. 
Why, I can’t say; but I always passed as her 
nevyou. We led a strange life; sometimes ma 
was dressed in satin and rooge, and sometimes 
in rags and dutt; sometimes I got kisses, and 
sometimes kix; sometimes gin, and sometimes 
shampang ; law bless us ! how she used to swear 
at me, and cuddle me; there we were, quarrel- 
ing and making up, sober and tipsy, starving 
and guttling by turns, just as ma got money or 
spent it. But let me draw a veil over the seen, 
and speak of her no more — it’s sfishant for the 
public to know that her name was Miss Mont- 
morency, and we lived in the New Cut. 

My poor mother died one morning, Hev’n 
bless her ! and I was left alone in this wide 
wicked wuld, without so much money as would 
buy me a penny roal for my brexfast. But there 
was some amongst our naybours (and let me 
tell you there’s more kindness among them poor 
• disrepettable creaturs than in half a dozen lords 
or barrynets) who took pity upon poor Sal’s 
orfin (for they bust out laffin when I called her 
Miss Montmorency), and gev me bred and shel- 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 7 

ter. I’m afraid, in spite of their kindness, that 
ni} r morrils wouldn’t have improved if I’d 
stayed long among ’em. But a benny-violent 
genlmn saw me, and put me to school. The 
academy which I went to was called the Free 
School of Saint Bartholomew’s the Less — the 
young genlmn wore green baize coats, yellow 
leather whatsinames, a tin plate on the left arm, 
and a cap about the size of a muffing. I stayed 
there sicks years ; from sicks, that is to say, till 
my twelfth year, during three years of witch I 
distinguished myself not a little in the musicle 
way, for I bloo the bellus of the church horgin, 
and very fine tunes we played, too. 

Well, it’s not worth recounting my jewvenile 
follies (what trix we used to play the apple- 
woman ! and how we put snuff in the old dark’s 
Prayer-book — my eye ! ) ; but one day a genlmn 
entered the school-room — it was on the very 
day when I went to subtraxion — and asked the 
master for a young lad for a servant. They 
pitched upon me glad enough; and nex day 
found me sleeping in the sculry, close under the 
sink, at Mr. Bago’s country-house at Penton- 
wille. 

Bago kep a shop in Smithfield market, and 
drov a taring good trade in the hoil and Italian 
way. I’ve heard him say that he cleared no less 


8 The Yellowplush Papers. 

than fifty pounds every year by letting his front 
room at hanging time. His winders looked 
right opsit Newgit, and many and many dozen 
chaps has he seen hanging there. Law’s was 
laws in the year ten, and they screwed chaps’ 
nex for nex to nothink. But my bisniss was at 
his country-house, where I made my first ontray 
into fashnabl life. I was knife, errint and 
stable-boy then, and an’t ashamed to own it; 
for my merrits have raised me to what I am — 
two livries, forty pounds a year, malt-licker, 
washin, silk-stocking and wax candles — not 
counting wails, which is somethink pretty con- 
siderable at our house, I can tell you. 

I didn’t stay long here, for a suckmstance 
happened which got me a very different situa- 
tion. A handsome young genlmn, who kep a 
tilbry and a ridin hoss at livry, wanted a tiger. 
I bid at once for the place; and, being a neat, 
tidy-looking lad, he took me. Bago gave me a 
character, and he my first livry; proud enough 
I was of it, as you may fancy. 

My new master had some business in the 
City, for he went in every morning at ten, got 
out of his tilbry at the City Road, and had it 
waiting for him at six ; when, if it was summer, 
he spanked round into the Park, and drove one 
of the neatest turouts there. Wery proud I was 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


9 


in a gold-laced hat, a drab coat and a red weskit, 
to sit by his side, when he drove. I already 
began to ogle the gals in the carridges, and to 
feel that longing for fashionabl life which I’ve 
had ever since. When he was at the oppera, or 
the play, down I went to skittles, or to White 
Condick Gardens ; and Mr. Frederic Altamont’s 
young man was somebody, I warrant : to be sure 
there is very few man-servants at Pentonwille, 
the poppylation being mostly gals of all work; 
and so, though only fourteen, I was as much a 
man down there as if I had been as old as J eru- 
salem. 

But the most singular thing was, that my 
master, who was such a gay chap, should live in 
such a hole. He had only a ground-floor in 
John Street — a parlor and a bed-room. I slep 
over the way, and only came in with his boots 
and brexfast of a morning. 

The house he lodged in belonged to Mr. and 
Mrs. Shum. They were a poor but proliffic 
couple, who had rented the place for many 
years ; and they and their family were squeezed 
in it pretty tight, I can tell you. 

Shum said he had been a hofficer, and so he 
had. He had been a sub-deputy assistant vice- 
commissary, or some such think; and, as I 
heerd afterwards, had been obliged to leave on 


10 The Yellowplush Papers. 

account of his nervousness. He was such a cow- 
ard, the fact is, that he was considered danger- 
ous to the harmy, and sent home. 

He had married a widow Buckmaster, who 
had been a Miss Slamcoe. She was a Bristol 
gal; and her father being a bankrup in the 
tallow-candlering way, left, in course, a pretty 
little sum of money. A thousand pound was 
settled on her ; and she was as high and mighty 
as if it had been a millium. 

Buckmaster died, leaving nothink; nothink 
except four ugly daughters by Miss Slamcoe: 
and her forty pound a year was rayther a nar- 
row income for one of her appytite and pre- 
tensions. In an unlucky hour for Shum she 
met him. He was a widower with a little 
daughter of three years old, a little house at 
Pentonwille, and a little income about as big 
as her own. I believe she bullyd the poor crea- 
ture into marridge; and it was agreed that he 
should let his ground-floor at John Street, and 
so add somethink to their means. 

They married; and the widow Buckmaste* 
was the gray mare, I can tell you. She was al- 
ways talking and blustering about her famly, 
the celebrity of the Buckmasters, and the an- 
tickety of the Slamcoes. They had a six- 
roomed house (not counting kitching and scul- 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


11 


ry), and now twelve daughters in all; whizz.— 
4 Miss Buckmasters: Miss Betsy, Miss Dosy, 
Miss Biddy and Miss Winny; 1 Miss Shum, 
Mary by name, Shum’s daughter, and seven 
others, who shall be nameless. Mrs. Shum was 
a fat, red-haired woman, at least a foot taller 
than S. — who was but a yard and a half high, 
pale-faced, red-nosed, knock-kneed, bald-head- 
ed, his nose and shut-frill all brown with snuff. 

Before the house was a little garden, where 
the washin of the famly was all ways hanging. 
There was so many of ’em that it was obliged to 
be done by relays. There was six rails and a 
stocking on each, and four small goosbry bushes, 
always covered with some bit of linning or oth- 
er. The hall was a regular puddle : wet dabs of 
dishclouts flapped in your face; soapy smoking 
bits of flanning went nigh to choke you; and 
while you were looking up to prevent hanging 
yourself with the ropes which were strung across 
and about, slap came the hedge of a pail against 
your shins, till one was like to be drove mad 
with hagony. The great slattnly doddling girls 
was always on the stairs, poking about with 
nasty flower-pots, a-cooking something, or 
sprawling in the window-seats with greasy curl- 
papers, reading greasy novls. An infernal 
pianna was jingling from morning till night — » 


12 The Yellowplush Papers. 

two eldest Miss Buckmasters, “Battle of Prag” 
— six youngest Miss Shums, “In my Cottage/’ 
till I knew every note in the “Battle of Prag,” 
and cussed the day when “In My Cottage” was 
rote. The younger girls, too, were always 
bouncing and thumping about the house, with 
torn pinnyfores, and dogs-eared grammars, and 
large pieces of bread and treacle. I never see 
such a house. 

As for Mrs. Shum, she was such a fine lady 
that she did nothink but lay on the drawing- 
room sophy, read novels, drink, scold, scream 
and go into hystarrix. Little Shum kep read- 
ing an old newspaper from week’s end to week’s 
end, when he was not engaged in teaching the 
children, or goin for the beer, or cleanin the 
shoes : for they kep no servant. This house in 
J ohn Street was in short a regular Pandymony. 

What could have brought Mr. Frederic Alta- 
mont to dwell in such a place? The reason is 
hobvius : he adoared the fust Miss Shum. 

And suttnly he did not show a bad taste ; for 
though the other daughters were as ugly as their 
hideous ma, Mary Shum was a pretty little 
pink, modest creatur, with glossy black hair 
and tender blue eyes, and a neck as white as 
plaster of Parish. She wore a dismal old black 
gownd, which had grown too short for her, and 


Miss Shinn’s Husband. 


13 


too tight; but it only served to show her pretty 
ankles and feet, and bewchus figger. Master, 
though he had looked rather low for the gal of 
his art, had certainly looked in the right place. 
Hever was one more pretty or more hamiable. 
I gav her always the buttered toast left from 
our brexfast, and a cup of tea or chocklate, as 
Altamont might fancy : and the poor thing was 
glad enough of it, I can vouch; for they had 
precious short commons upstairs, and she the 
least of all. 

For it seemed as if which of the Shum famly 
should try to snub the poor thing most. There 
was the four Buckmaster girls always at her. 
It was, Mary, git the coal-skittle; Mary, run 
down to the public-house for the beer; Mary, I 
intend to wear your clean stockens out walk- 
ing, or your new bonnet to church. Only her 
poor father was kind to her; and he, poor old 
muff ! his kindness was of no use. Mary bore 
all the scolding like a hangel, as she was: no, 
not if she had a pair of wings and a goold trum- 
pet, could she have been a greater hangel. 

I never shall forgit one seen that took place. 
It was when Master was in the city; and so, 
having nothink earthly to do, I happened to be 
listening on the stairs. The old scolding was 
a-going on, and the old tune of that hojus “Bat- 


14 The Yellowplush Papers. 

tie of Prag.” Old Shum made some remark; 
and Miss Buckmaster cried out, “Law, pa! 
what a fool you are !” All the gals began laffin, 
and so did Mrs. Shum ; all, that is, excep Mary, 
who turned as red' as flams, and going up to 
Miss Betsy Buckmaster, give her two such 
wax on her great red ears as made them tingle 
again. 

Old Mrs. Shum screamed and ran at her like 
a Bengal tiger. Her great arms vent veeling 
about like a vinmill, as she cuffed and thumped 
poor Mary for taking her pa’s part. Mary 
Shum, who was always a-crying before, didn’t 
shed a tear now. “I will do it again,” she said, 
“if Betsy insults my father/’ New thumps, 
new shreex ; and the old horridan went on beat- 
in the poor girl till she was quite exosted, and 
fell down on the sophy, puffin like a poppus. 

“For shame, Mary,” began old Shum; “for 
shame, you naughty gal you! for hurting the 
feelings of your dear mamma, and beating your 
kind sister.” 

“Why, it was because she called you a ” 

“If she did, you pert miss,” said Shum, look- 
ing mighty dignitified, “I could correct her, and 
not you.” 

“You correct me, indeed!” said Miss Betsy, 
turning up her nose, if possible, higher than be- 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


15 


fore ; “I should like to see you correct me ! Im- 
perence !” and they all began laffin again. 

By this time Mrs. S. had recovered from the 
effex of her exsize, and she began to pour in her 
wolly. Fust she called Mary names, then Shum. 

“Oh, why,” screeched she, “why did I ever 
leave a genteel famly, where I ad every elly- 
gance and lucksry, to marry a creatur like this ? 
He is unfit to be called a man, he is unworthy 
to marry a gentlewoman ; and as for that hussy, 
I disown her. Thank heaven she an’t a Slam- 
coe; she is only fit to be a Shum !” 

“That’s true, mamma,” said all the gals; for 
their mother had taught them this pretty piece 
of manners, and they despised their father 
heartily: indeed, I have always remarked that, 
in famlie.s where the wife is internally talking 
about the merits of her branch, the husband is 
invariably a spooney. 

Well, when she was exosted again, down she 
fell on the sofy, at her old trix — more screech- 
ing — more convulshuns : and she wouldn’t stop, 
this time, till Shum had got her half a pint of 
her old remedy, from the “Blue Lion” over the 
way. She grew more easy as she finished the 
gin; but Mary was sent out of the room, and 
told not to come back agin all day. 

“Miss Mary,” says I — for my heart yurned 


16 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


to the poor gal, as she came sobbing and miser- 
able downstairs: “Miss Mary/’ says I, “if I 
might make so bold, here’s master’s room empty, 
and I know where the cold bif and pickles is.” 
“Oh, Charles !” said she, nodding her head sad- 
ly, “I’m too retched to have any happy tite.” 
And she flung herself on a chair and began to 
cry fit to bust. 

At this moment, who should come in but my 
master. I had taken hold of Miss Mary’s hand, 
somehow, and do believe I should have kist it, 
when, as I said, Haltamont made his appear- 
ance. “What’s this ?” cries he, lookin at me as 
black as thunder, or as Mr. Phillips as Hickit, 
in the new tragedy of Mac Buff. 

“It’s only Miss Mary, sir,” answered I. 

“Get out, sir,” says he, as fierce as posbil; 
and I felt somethink (I think it was the tip of 
his to) touching me behind, and found myself, 
nex minit, sprawling among the wet flannings 
and buckets and things. 

The people from upstairs came to see what 
was the matter, as I was cussin and crying out. 
“It’s only Charles, ma,” screamed out Miss 
Betsy. 

“Where’s Mary?” says Mrs. Shum, from the 
sofy. 

“She’s in master’s room, missis,” said I. 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


17 


“She’s in the lodger’s room, ma,” cries Miss 
Shum, heckoing me. 

“Very good; tell her to stay there till he 
comes back.” And then Miss Shum went 
bouncing up the stairs again, little knowing of 
Haltamont’s return. 

* * * * * * 

I’d long before observed that my master had 
an anchoring after Mary Shum; indeed, as I 
have said, it was purely for her sake that he 
took and kep his lodgings at Pentonwille. Ex- 
cep for the sake of love, which is above being 
mersnary, fourteen shillings a wick was a little 
too strong for two such rat-holes as he lived in. 
I do blieve the famly had nothing else but their 
lodger to live on: they brekfisted off his tea- 
leaves, they cut away pounds and pounds of 
meat from his jints (he always dined at home), 
and his baker’s bill was at least enough for six. 
But that wasn’t my business. I saw him grin, 
sometimes, when I laid down the cold bif of a 
morning, to see how little was left of yester- 
day’s sirline ; but he never said a syllabub : for 
true love don’t mind a pound of meat or so 
hextra. 

At first, he was very kind and attentive to all 
the gals ; Miss Betsy, in partickler, grew mighty 
fond of him : they sat, for whole evenings, play- 


18 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


ing cribbitch, he taking his pipe and glas, she 
her tea and muffing ; but as it was improper for 
her to come alone, she brought one of her sis- 
ters, and this was genrally Mary — for he made 
a pint of asking her, too — and one day, when 
one of the others came instead, he told her, very 
quietly, that he hadn’t invited her; and Miss 
Buckmaster was too fond of muffings to try this 
game on again: besides, she was jealous of her 
three grown sisters, and considered Mary as 
only a child. Law bless us! how she used to 
ogle him, and quot bits of pottry, and play 
“Meet Me by Moonlike,” on an old gitter: she 
reglar flung herself at his head : but he wouldn’t 
have it, bein better ockypied elsewhere. 

One night, as genteel as possible, he brought 
home tickets for “Ashley’s,” and proposed to 
take the two young ladies — Miss Betsy and Miss 
Mary, in course. I recklect he called me aside 
that afternoon, assuming a solamon and mis- 
terus hare, “Charles,” said he, “are you up to 
snuff r 

“Why, sir,” said I, “I’m genrally considered 
tolerably downy.” 

“Well,” says he, “I’ll give you half a suffer- 
ing if you can manage this bisness for me ; I’ve 
chose a rainy night on purpus. When the thea- 
ter is over, you must be waitin with two um- 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


19 


brellows ; give me one, and hold the other over 
Miss Buckmaster : and, hark ye, sir, turn to the 
right when you leave the theater, and say the 
coach is ordered to stand a little way up the 
street, in order to get rid of the crowd.” 

We went (in a fly hired by Mr. A.), and . 
never shall I forgit Cartliche’s hacting on that 
memrable night. Talk of Kimble ! talk of Ma- 
greedy ! Ashley’s for my money, with Cart- 
litch in the principal part. But this is nothink 
to the porpus. When the play was over, I was 
at the door with the umbrellos. It was raining 
cats and dogs, sure enough. 

Mr. Altamont came out presently, Miss Mary 
under his arm, and Miss Betsy following be- 
hind, rayther sulky. “This way, sir,” cries I, 
pushin forward ; and I threw a great cloak over 
Miss Betsy, fit to smother her. Mr. A. and Mis3 
Mary skipped on and was out of sight when 
Miss Betsy’s cloak was settled, you may be sure. 

“They’re only gone to the fly, miss. It’s a 
little way up the street, away from the crowd 
of carridges.” And off we turned to the right, 
and no mistake. 

After marchin a little through the plash and 
mud, “Has anybody seen Coxy’s fly?” cries I, 
with the most innocent haxent in the world. 

“Cox’s fly !” hollows out one chap. “Is it the 


20 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


vaggin you want?” says another. “I see the 
blackin wan pass,” giggles out another genlmn ; 
and there was such a hinterchange of compli- 
ments as you never heerd. I pass them over 
though, because some of ’em were not wery 
genteel. 

“Law, miss,” said I, “what shall I do? My 
master will never forgive me; and I haven’t a 
single sixpence to pay a coach.” Miss Betsy 
was just going to call one when I said that ; but 
the coachman wouldn’t have it at that price, he 
said, I knew very well that she hadn’t four or 
five shillings to pay for a wehicle. So, in the 
midst of that tarin rain, at midnight, we had 
to walk four miles, from Westminster Bridge 
to Pentonwille; and what was wuss, I didn’t 
happen to know the way. A very nice walk it 
was, and no mistake. 

At about half-past two, we got safe to John 
Street. My master was at the garden gate. 
Miss Mary flew into Miss Betsy’s arms, while 
master began cussin and swearing at me for 
disobeying his orders, and turning to the right 
instead of to the left! Law bless me! his hact- 
'ing of hanger was very near as natral and as 
terrybl as Mr. Cartlich’s in the play. 

They had waited half-an-hour, he said, in 
the fly, in the little street at the left of the 



(21) 
























































































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Miss Shum’s Husband. 


23 


theater; they had drove up and down in the 
greatest fright possible ; and at last came home, 
thinking it was in vain to wait any more. They 
gave her ’ot rum-and-water and roast oysters 
for supper, and this consoled her a little. 

I hope nobody will cast an imputation on 
Miss Mary for her share in this adventer, for 
she was as honest a gal as ever lived, and I do 
believe is hignorant to this day of our little 
strattygim. Besides, all’s fair in love; and, as 
my master could never get to see her alone, on 
account of her infernal eleven sisters and ma, 
he took this opportunity of expressin his at- 
tachment to her. 

If he was in love with her before, you may be 
sure she paid it him back again now. Ever 
after the night at Ashley’s they were as tender 
as two tuttle-doves — which fully accounts for 
the axdent what happened to me, in being 
kicked out of the room : and in course I bore no 
mallis. 

I don’t know whether Miss Betsy still fancied 
that my master was in love with her, but she 
loved muffings and tea, and kem down to his 
parlor as much as ever. 

Now comes the sing’lar part of my history. 


CHAPTER II. 


But who was this genlmn with a fine name — 
Mr. Frederic Altamont ? or what was he ? The 
most mysterus genlmn that ever I knew. Once 
I said to him on a wery rainy day, “Sir, shall 
I bring the gig down to your office?” and he 
gave me one of his black looks and one of his 
loudest hoaths, and told me to mind my own 
bizziness, and attend to my orders. Another 
day — it was on the day when Miss Mary slapped 
Miss Betsy’s face — Miss M., who adoared him, 
as I have said already, kep on asking him what 
was his buth, parentidg, and ediccation. “Dear 
Frederic,” says she, “why this mistry about 
yourself and your hactions ? why hide from your 
little Mary” — they were as tender as this, I can 
tell you — “your buth and your professin?” 

I spose Mr. Frederic looked black, for I was 
only listening, and he said, in a voice hagitated 
by emotion, “Mary,” said he, “if you love me, 
ask me this no more : let it be sfishnt for you to 
know that I am an honest man, and that a 
secret, what it would be misery for you to larn, 
must hang over all my actions — that is from 
ten o’clock till six.” 

They went on chaffin and talking in this 

24 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


25 


melumcolly and mysterus way, and I didn’t lose 
a word of what they said; for them houses in 
Pentonwille have only walls made of paste- 
board, and you hear rayther better outside the 
room than in. But, though he kep up his se- 
cret, he swore to her his affektion this day pint 
blank. Nothing should prevent him, he said, 
from leading her to the halter, from makin her 
his adorable wife. After this was a slight si- 
lence. “Dearest Frederic/’ mummered out 
miss, speakin as if she was chokin, “I am yours 
— yours for ever.” And then silence agen, and 
one or two smax, as if there was kissin going 
on. Here I thought it best to give a rattle at 
the door-lock ; for, as I live, there was old Mrs. 
Shum a-walkin down the stairs ! 

It appears that one of the younger gals, a- 
looking out of the bed-rum window, had seen 
my master come in, and coming down to tea 
half-an-hour afterwards, said so in a cussary 
way. Old Mrs. Shum, who was a dragon of 
vertyou, cam bustling down the stairs, panting 
and frowning, as fat and as fierce as a old sow 
at feedin time. 

“Where’s the lodger fellow?” says she to 
me. 

I spoke loud enough to be heard down the 
street — “If you mean, ma’am, my master, Mr. 


26 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Frederic Altamont, esquire, he’s just stept in, 
and is puttin on clean shoes in his bed-room.” 

She said nothink in answer, but flumps past 
me, and opening the parlor-door, sees master 
looking very queer, and Miss Mary a-drooping 
down her head like a pale lily. 

“Did you come into my famly,” says she, “to 
corrupt my daughters, and to destroy the hin- 
nocence of that infamous gal? Did you come 
here, sir, as a seducer, or only as a lodger? 
Speak, sir, speak!” — and she folded her arms 
quite fierce, and looked like Mrs. Siddums in 
the Tragic Mews. 

“I came here, Mrs. Shum,” said he, “because 
I loved your daughter, or I never would have 
condescended to live in such a beggarly hole. I 
have treated her in every respect like a genlmn, 
and she is as innocent now, ma’m, as she was 
when she was born. If she’ll marry me, I am 
ready ; if she’ll leave you, she shall have a home 
where she shall be neither bullyd nor starved: 
no hangry frumps of sisters, no cross mother- 
in-law, only an affeckshnat husband, and all the 
pure pleasures of Hyming.” 

Mary flung herself into his arms — “Dear, 
dear, Frederic,” says she, “I’ll never leave you.” 

“Miss,” says Mrs. Shum, “you ain’t a Slam- 
coe, nor yet a Buckmaster, thank God. You 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


27 


may marry this person if your pa thinks proper, 
and he may insult me — brave me — trample on 
my feelinx in my own house — and there’s no-o- 
o-obody by to defend me.” 

I knew what she was going to be at : on came 
her histarrix agen, and she began screechin and 
roarin like mad. Down comes of course the 
eleven gals and old Shum. There was a pretty 
row. “Look here, sir,” says she, “at the corn 
duck of your precious trull of a daughter — 
alone with this man, kissing and dandlin, and 
Lawd knows what besides.” 

“What, he?” cries Miss Betsy — “he in love 
with Mary. Oh, the wretch, the monster, the 
deceiver!” — and she falls down too, screeching 
away as loud as her mamma; the silly creature 
fancied that Altamont had a fondness for her. 

“Silence these women!” shouts out Altamont, 
thundering loud. “I love your daughter, Mr. 
Shum. I will take her without a penny, and 
can afford to keep her. If you don’t give her 
to me, she’ll come of her own will. Is that 
enough? — may I have her?” 

“We’ll talk of this matter, sir,” says Mr. 
Shum, looking as high and mighty as an aider- 
man. “Gals, go upstairs with your dear mam- 
ma.” And they all trooped up again, and so the 
skrimmage ended. 


28 The Yellowplush Papers. 

You may be sure that old Shum was not very 
sorry to get a husband for his daughter Mary, 
for the old creatur loved her better than all the 
pack which had been brought him or born to 
him by Mrs. Buckmaster. But, strange to say, 
when he came to talk of - settlements and so 
forth, not a word would my master answer. 
He said he made four hundred a year reglar — 
he wouldn’t tell how — but Mary, if she mar- 
ried him, must share all that he had, and ask 
no questions; only this he would say, as he’d 
said before, that he was a honest man. 

They were married in a few days, and took a 
very genteel house at Islington; but still my 
master went away to business, and nobody knew 
where. Who could he be ? 


CHAPTER III. 

If ever a young kipple in the middlin classes 
began life with a chance of happiness, it was 
Mr. and Mrs. Frederic Altamont. Their house 
at Cannon Row, Islington, was as comfortable 
as house could be. Carpited from top to to; 
pore’s rates small; furnitur elygant; and three 
deomestix : of which I, in course, was one. My 


Miss Shurn’s Husband. 


29 


life wasn’t so easy as in Mr. A.’s bachelor days ; 
but, what then ? The three W’s is my maxum : 
plenty of work, plenty of wittles, and plenty of 
wages. Altamont kep his gig no longer, but 
went to the city in an omlibuster. 

One would have thought, I say, that Mrs. A., 
with such an effeckshnut husband, might have 
been as happy as her blessid majisty. Nothing 
of the sort. For the fust six months it was all 
very well; but then she grew gloomier and 
gloomier, though A. did everythink in life to 
please her. 

Old Shum used to come reglarly four times a 
wick to Cannon Row, where he lunched, and 
dined, and teed, and supd. The pore little man 
was a thought too fond of wine and spirits ; and 
many and many’s the night that I’ve had to 
support him home. And you may be sure that 
Miss Betsy did not now desert her sister: she 
was at our place mornink, noon and night; not 
much to mayster’s liking, though he was too 
good-natured to wex his wife in trifles. 

But Betsy never had forgotten the recollec- 
tion of old days, and hated Altamont like the 
foul feind. She put all kind of bad things into 
the head of poor innocent missis; who, from 
being all gaiety and cheerfulness, grew to be 
quite melumcolly and pale, and retchid, just as 


30 The Yellowplush Papers. 

if she had been the most misrable woman in the 
world. 

In three months more, a baby comes, in 
course, and with it old Mrs. Shum, who stuck 
to Mrs. 5 side as close as a wampire, and made 
her retchider and retchider. She used to bust 
into tears when Altamont came home : she used 
to sigh and wheep over the pore child, and say, 
“My child, my child, your father is false to 
me;” or, ' f your father deceives me;” or, “what 
will you do when your pore mother is no more ?” 
or such like sentimental stuff. 

It all came from Mother Shum, and her old 
trix, as I soon found out. The fact is, when 
there is a mistry of this kind in the house, its 
a servant’s duty to listen ; and listen I did, one 
day when Mrs. was cryin as usual, and fat Mrs. 
Shum a sittin consolin her, as she called it: 
though, heaven knows, she only grew wuss and 
wuss for the consolation. 

Well, I listened; Mrs. Shum was a-rockin the 
baby, and missis cryin as yousual. 

“Pore dear innocint,” says Mrs. S., heavin a 
great sigh, “you’re the child of a unknown fa- 
ther and a misrable mother.” 

“Don’t speak ill of Frederic, mamma,” says 
missis ; “he is all kindness to me.” 

“All kindness, indeed! yes, he gives you a 


Miss Shu m’s Husband. 


31 


fine house, and a fine gownd, and a ride in a fly 
whenever you please; but where does all his 
money come from ? Who is he — what is he? 
Who knows that he mayn’t be a murderer, or a 
housebreaker, or a utterer of forged notes? 
How can he make his money honestly, when he 
won’t say where he gets it ? Why does he leave 
you eight hours every blessid day, and won’t 
say where he goes to? Oh, Mary, Mary, you 
are the most injured of women !” 

And with this Mrs. Shum began sobbin; and 
Miss Betsy began yowling like a cat in a gitter ; 
and pore missis cried, too — tears is so remark- 
able infeckshus. 

“Perhaps, mamma,” wimpered out she, 
“Frederic is a shopboy, and don’t like me to 
know that he is not a gentleman.” 

“A shopboy,” says Betsy; “he a shopbdy! 
0 no, no, no ! more likely a wretched willain of a 
murderer, stabbin and robbin all day, and feedin 
you with the fruits of his ill-gotten games !” 

More crying and screechin here took place, in 
which the baby joined ; and made a very pretty 
consort, I can tell you. 

“He can’t be a robber,” cried missis; “he’s 
too good, too kind, for that : besides, murdering 
is done at night, and Frederic is always home 
at eight.” 


32 The Yellowplush Papers. 

“But he can be a forger/’ says Betsy, “a 
wicked, wicked forger. Why does he go away 
every day? to forge notes, to be sure. Why 
does he go to the city? to be near banks and 
places, and so do it more at his convenience.” 

“But he brings home a sum of money every 
day — about thirty shillings — sometimes fifty; 
and then he smiles, and says it’s a good day’s 
work. This is unlike a forger,” said Mrs. A. 

“I have it- -I have it !” screams out Mrs. S. 
“The villain — the sneaking, double-faced Jo- 
nas ! he’s married to somebody else, he is, and 
that’s why he leaves you, the base biggymist !” 

At this, Mrs. Altamont, struck all of a heap, 
fainted clean away. A dreadful business it was 
— hystarrix; then hystarrix, in course, from 
Mrs. Shum; bells ringin, child squalin, suv- 
vants tearin up and down stairs with hot water ! 
If ever there is a noosance in the world, it’s a 
house where faintin is always goin on. I 
wouldn’t live in one — no, not to be groom of the 
chambers, and git two hundred a year. 

It was eight o’clock in the evenin when this 
row took place ; and such a row it was, that no- 
body but me heard master’s knock. He came 
in, and heard the hooping, and screeching, and 
roaring. He seemed very much frightened at 
first, and said, “What is it?” 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


33 


“Mrs. Shum’s here,” says I, “and Mrs. in 
astarrix.” 

Altamont looked as black as thunder, and 
growled out a word which I don’t like to name 
— let it suffice that it begins with a d and ends 
with a nation ; and he tore up stairs like mad. 

He bust open the bedroom door; missis lay 
quite pale and stony on the sofy ; the babby was 
screechin from the craddle; Miss Betsy was 
sprawlin over missis; and Mrs. Shum halt on 
the bed and half on the ground : all howlin and 
squeelin, like so many dogs at the moond. 

When A. came in, the mother and daughter 
stopped all of a sudding. There had been one 
or two tiffs before between them, and they 
feared him as if he had been a hogre. 

“What’s this infernal screeching and crying 
about ?” says he. “Oh, Mr. Altamont,” cries the 
old woman, “you know too well; it’s about you 
that this darling child is misrabble !” 

“And why about me, pray, madam ?” 

“Why, sir, dare you ask why? Because you 
deceive her, sir; because you are a false, cow- 
ardly traitor, sir; because you have a wife else- 
where, sir!” And the old lady and Miss Betsy 
began to roar again as loud as ever. 

Altamont pawsed for a minnit, and then 
flung the door wide open ; nex he seized Miss 


34 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Betsy as if his hand were a vise, and he world 
her out of the room; then up he goes to Mrs. S. 
“Get up,” says he, thundering loud, “you lazy, 
trolloping, mischief-making, lying old fool ! 
Get up, and get out of this house. You have 
been the cuss and bain of my happyniss since 
you entered it. With your d — d lies, and nov- 
vle reading, and histerrix, you have perwerted 
Mary, and made her almost as mad as your- 
self.” 

“My child ! my child !” shriex out Mrs. Shum, 
and clings round missis. But Altamont ran be- 
tween them, and griping the old lady by her 
arm, dragged her to the door. “Follow your 
daughter, ma’m,” says he, and down she went. 
" Chawls , see those ladies to the door ” he hol- 
lows out, “and never let them pass it again.” 
We walked down together, and off they went: 
and master locked and double-locked the bed- 
room door after him, intendin, of course, to 
have a tator-tator (as they say) with his wife. 
You may be sure that I followed upstairs again 
pretty quick to hear the result of their confi- 
dence. 

As they say at St. Stevenses, it was rayther a 
stormy debate. “Mary,” says master, “you’re 
no longer the merry grateful gal I knew and 
loved at Pentonwill : there’s some secret a press- 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


35 


in on you — there’s no smilin welcom for me 
now, as there used formly to be ! Your mother 
and sister-in-law have perwerted you, Mary: 
and that’s why I’ve drove them from this house, 
which they shall not re-enter in my life.” 

“0, Frederic ! it’s you is the cause, and not I. 
Why do you have any mistry from me ? Where 
do you spend your days? Why did you leave 
me, even on the day of your marridge, for eight 
hours, and continue to do so every day ?” 

“Because,” says he, “I makes my livelihood 
by it. I leave you, and don’t tell you how I 
make it : for it would make you none the hap- 
pier to know.” 

It was in this way the convysation ren on — 
more tears and questions on my missises part, 
more sturmness and silence on my master’s : it 
ended for the first time since their marridge, in 
a reglar quarrel. Wery difrent, I can tell you, 
from all the hammerous billing and kewing 
which had proceeded their nupshuls. 

Master went out, slamming the door in a 
fury; as well he might. Says he, “If I can’t 
have a comfortable life, I can have a jolly one;” 
and so he went off to the hed tavern, and came 
home that evening beesly intawsicated. When 
high words begin in a family drink generally 

follows on the genlman’s side; and then, fare- 
3 


36 The Yellowplush Papers. 

well to all conjubial happyniss ! These two 
pipple, so fond and loving, were now sirly, si- 
lent, and full of il wil. Master went out earlier 
and came home later; missis cried more, and 
looked even paler than before. 

Well, things went on in this uncomfortable 
way, master still in the mopes, misses tempted 
by the deamons of jellosy and curosity; until a 
singlar axident brought to light all the goings 
on of Mr. Altamont. 

It was the tenth of January; I recklect the 
day, for old Shum gev me half-a-crownd (the 
fust and last of his money I ever see, by the 
way) : he was dining along with master, and 
they were making merry together. 

Master said, as he was mixing his fifth tum- 
ler of punch and little Shum his twelfth or so 
— master said, “I see you twice in the City to- 
day, Mr. Shum/’ 

“Well, that’s curous !” says Shum. “I was in 
the City. To-day’s the day when the divvydins 
(God bless ’em) is paid; and me and Mrs. S. 
went for our half-year’s inkem. But we only 
got out of the coach, crossed the street to the 
Bank, took our money, and got in agen. How 
could you see me twice?” 

Altamont stuttered and stammered and 
hemd, and hawd. “0 !” says he, “I was passing 


Miss Shum’s Husband. . 


37 


— passing as you went in and out.” And he 
instantly turned the conversation, and began 
talking about pollytix, or the weather, or some 
such stuff. 

“Yes, my dear,” said my missis, “but how 
could you see papa twice f” Master didn’t 
answer, but talked pollytix more than ever. 
Still she would continy on. “Where was you, 
my dear, when you saw pa? What were you 
doing, my love, to see pa twice ?” and so forth. 
Master looked angrier and angrier, and his wife 
only pressed him wuss and wuss. 

This was, as I said, little Shum’s twelfth 
tumler; and I knew pritty well that he could 
git very little further; for, as reglar as the 
thirteenth came, Shum was drunk. The 
thirteenth did come, and its consquinzes. I 
was obliged to leed him home to John Street, 
where I left him in the hangry arms of Mrs. 
Shum. 

“How the d — ,” sayd he all the way, “how 
the d dd — the deddy — deddy — devil — could he 
have seen me twice V’ 


CHAPTER IV. 

It was a sad slip on Altamont’s part, for no 
sooner did he go out the next morning than 


38 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


missis went out too. She tor down the street, 
and never stopped till she came to her pa’s 
house at Pentonwill. She was clositid for an 
hour with her ma, and when she left her she 
drove straight to the City. She walked before 
the Bank, and behind the Bank, and round the 
Bank : she came home disperryted, having 
learned nothink. 

And it was now an extraordinary thing that 
from Shum’s house for the next ten days there 
was nothing but expyditions into the city. Mrs. 
S., tho her dropsicle legs had never carred her 
half so fur before, was eternally on the hey 
veve, as the French say. If she didn’t go. Miss 
Betsy did, or missis did : they seemed to have an 
attrackshun to the Bank, and went there as 
natral as an omlibus. 

At last one day, old Mrs. Shum comes to our 
house — (she wasn’t admitted when master was 
there, but came still in his absints) — and she 
wore a hair of tryumph as she entered. “Mary,” 
says she, “where is the money your husbind 
brought to you yesterday?” My master used 
always to give it to missis when he returned. 

“The money, ma !” says Mary. “Why, here !” 
And pulling out her puss, she showed a sovrin, 
a good heap of silver, and an odd-looking little 
coin. 


Miss Shum’s Husband. 


39 


“That’s it! that’s it!” cried Mrs. S. “A 
Queene Anne’s sixpence, isn’t it, dear — dated 
seventeen hundred and three ?” 

It was so sure enough : a Queen Ans sixpence 
of that very date. 

“Now, my love,” says she, “I have found him ! 
Come with me to-morrow, and you shall know 
all!” 

And now comes the end of my story. 
****** 

The ladies nex morning set out for the City, 
and I walked behind, doing the genteel thing, 
with a nosegy and a goold stick. We walked 
down the New Eoad — we walked down the City 
Eoad — we walked to the Bank. We were cross- 
ing from that heddyfiz to the other side of 
Cornhill, when all of a sudden missis shreeked, 
and fainted spontaceously away. 

I rushed forrard, and raised her to my arms : 
spiling thereby a new weskit and a pair of 
crimson smaleloes. I rushes forrard, I say, 
very nearly knocking down the old sweeper who 
was hobbling away as fast as posibil. We took 
her to Birch’s ; we provided her with a hackney- 
coach and every lucksury, and carried her home 
to Islington. 

****** 

That night master never came home. Nor 


40 The Yellowplush Papers. 

the nex night, nor the nex. On the fourth day 
an octioneer arrived; he took an infantry of 
the furnitur, and placed a bill in the window. 

At the end of the wick Altamont made his 
appearance. He was haggard and pale; not so 
haggard, however, not so pale as his miserable 
wife. 

He looked at her very tendrilly. I may say, 
it’s from him that I coppied my look to Miss 

He looked at her very tendrilly and held 

out his arms. She gev a suffycating shreek, and 
rusht into his umbraces. 

“Mary,” says he, “you know all now. I have 
sold my place; I have got three thousand 
pounds for it, and saved two more. Fve sold 
my house and furnitur, and that brings me 
another. We’ll go abroad and love each other, 
has formly.” 

And now you ask me, Who he was ? I shud- 
der to relate. — Mr. Haltamont swep the cross- 
ing from the Bank to Cornhill ! ! 

Of cors, I left his servis. I met him, few 
years after, at Badden-Badden, where he and 
Mrs. A. were much respectid and pass for pip- 
pie of propaty. 


THE AMOURS OF MR. DEUCEACE. 


DIMOND CUT DIMOND. 

The name of my nex master was, if posbil, 
still more ellygant and youfonious than that of 
my fust. I now found myself boddy servant to 
the Honrabble Halgernon Percy Deuceace, 
youngest and fifth son of the Earl of Crabs. 

Halgernon was a barrystir — that is, he lived 
in Pump Cort, Temple: a wulgar naybrood, 
witch praps my readers don’t no. Suffiz to say, 
it’s on the confines of the citty, and the choasen 
aboad of the lawyers of this metrappolish. 

When I say that Mr. Deuceace was a barry- 
stir, I don’t mean that he went sesshums or 
surcoats (as they call ’em), but simply that he 
kep chambers, lived in Pump Cort, and looked 
out for a commitionarship, or a revisinship, or 
any other place that the Wig guvvyment could 
give him. His father was a Wig pier (as the 
landriss told me), and had been a Toary pier. 
The fack is, his lordship was so poar, that he 
would be anythink or nothink, to get provisions 
for his sons and an inkum for himself. 


41 


42 The Yellowplush Papers. 

I phansy that he aloud Halgernon two hun- 
dred a year; and it would have been a very 
comforable maintenants, only he knever paid 
him. 

Owever, the young genlmn was a genlmn, 
and no mistake; he got his allowents of noth- 
ing a year, and spent it in the most honrabble 
and fashnabble manner. He kep a kab — he 
went to Holmax — and Crockfud’s — he moved in 
the most xquizzit suckles and trubbld the law 
boox very little, I can tell you. Those fashion- 
able gents have ways of getten money, witch 
comman pipple doan’t understand. 

Though he only had a therd floar in Pump 
Cort, he lived as if he had the welth of Cresas. 
The tenpun notes floo abowt as common as 
haypince — clarrit and shampang was at his 
house as vulgar as gin; and verry glad I was, 
to be sure, to be a valley to a zion of the no- 
billaty. 

Deuceace had, in his sittin-room, a large pic- 
tur on a sheet of paper. The names of his fam- 
ily was wrote on it; it was wrote in the shape 
of a tree, a-groin out of a man-in-armer’s 
stomick, and the names were on little plates 
among the bows. The pictur said that the 
Deuceaces kem into England in the year 1066, 
along with William Conqueruns. My master 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


43 


called it his podygree. I do bleev it was be- 
cause he had this pictur, and because he was the 
Honrabble Deuceace, that he mannitched to live 
as he did. If he had been a common man, you’d 
have said he was no better than a swinler. It’s 
only rank and buth that can warrant such sin- 
gularities as my master show’d. For it’s no use 
disgysing it — the Honrabble Halgernon was a 
gambler. For a man of wulgar family, it’s 
the wust trade that can be — for a man of com- 
mon feelinx of honesty, this profession is quite 
imposbil ; but for a real thoroughbread genlmn, 
it’s the esiest and most prophetable line he can 
take. 

It may praps appear curious that such a fash- 
nabble man should live in the Temple; but it 
must be recklected, that it’s not only lawyers 
who live in what’s called the Ins of Cort. Many 
batchylers, who have nothink to do with lor, 
have here their loginx; and many sham barry- 
sters, who never put on a wig and gownd twise 
in their lives, kip apartments in the Temple, 
instead of Bon Street, Pickledilly, or other 
fashnabble places. 

Frinstance, on our stairkis (so these houses 
are called), there was 8 sets of chamberses, and 
only 3 lawyers. These was bottom floar, Screw- 
son, Hewson and Jewson, attorneys; fust floar, 


44 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Mr. Sergeant Flabber — opsite, Mr. Counslor 
Bruffy; and secknd pair, Mr. Haggerstony, an 
Irish counslor, prakticing at the Old Baly, and 
lickwise what they call reporter to the Morning 
Post nyouspapper. Opsite him was wrote 

Mr. Kichard Blewitt; 

and on the thud floar, with my master, lived one 
Mr. Dawkins. 

This young fellow was a new comer into the 
Temple, and unlucky it was for him too — he’d 
better have never been born; for it’s my firm 
apinion that the Temple ruined him — that is, 
with the help of my master and Mr. Dick 
Blewitt : as you shall hear. 

Mr. Dawkins, as I was gave to understand 
by his young man, had jest left the Universary 
of Oxford, and had a pretty little fortn of his 
own — six thousand pound, or so — in the stox. 
He was jest of age, an orfin who had lost his 
father and mother; and having distinkwished 
hisself at Collitch, where he gained seffral 
prices, was come to town to push his fortn, and 
study the barryster’s bisness. 

Not bein of a very high fammly hisself — in- 
deed, I’ve heard say his father was a chismon- 
ger, or somethink of that lo sort — Dawkins was 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 45 

glad to find his old Oxford frend, Mr. Blewitt, 
yonger son to rich Squire Blewitt, of Lister- 
shire, and to take rooms so near him. 

Now, tho’ there was a considdrable intimacy 
between me and Mr. Blewitt’s gentleman, there 
was scarcely any betwixt our masters — mine 
being too much of the aristoxy to associate with 
one of Mr. Blewitt’s sort. Blewitt was what 
they call a bettin man; he went reglar to Tat- 
tlesall’s, kep a pony, wore a white hat, a blue- 
berd’s-eye handkerchef, and a cut-away coat. 
In his manners he was the very contrary of my 
master, who was a slim, ellygant man as ever I 
see — he had very white hands, rayther a sallow 
face, with sharp dark ise, and small wiskus 
neatly trimmed and as black as Warren’s jet — 
he spoke very low and soft — he seemed to be 
watchin the person with whom he was in con- 
vysation, and always flattered everybody. As 
for Blewitt, he was quite of another sort. He 
was always swearin, singing, and slappin peo- 
ple on the back, as hearty as posbill. He seemed 
a merry, careless, honest cretur, whom one 
would trust with life and soul. So thought 
Dawkins, at least; who, though a quiet young 
man, fond of his boox, novvles, Byron’s poems, 
floot-playing, and such like scientafic amuse- 
mints, grew hand in glove with honest Dick 


46 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Blewitt, and soon after with my master, the 
Honrabble Halgernon. Poor Daw ! he thought 
he was makin good connexions and real frends 
— he had fallen in with a couple of the most 
etrocious swinlers that ever lived. 

Before Mr. Dawkins’s arrivial at our house, 
Mr. Deuceace had barely condysended to speak 
to Mr. Blewitt ; it was only about a month after 
that suckumstance that my master, all of a sud- 
ding, grew very friendly with him. The reason 
was pretty clear — Deuceace wanted him. Daw- 
kins had not been an hour in master’s company 
before he knew that he had a pidgin to pluck. 

Blewitt knew this too : and bein very fond of 
pidgin, intended to keep this one entirely to 
himself. It was amusin to see the Honrabble 
Halgernon manuvring to get this poor bird out 
of Blewitt’s clause, who thought he had it safe. 
In fact, he’d brought Dawkins to these cham- 
bers for that very porpos, thinking to have him 
under his eye, and strip him at leisure. 

My master very soon found out what was Mr. 
Blewitt’s game. Gamblers know gamblers, if 
not by instink, at least by reputation; and 
though Mr. Blewitt moved in a much lower 
speare than Mr. Deuceace, they knew each oth- 
er’s dealins and caracters puffickly well. 

“Charles, you scoundrel,” says Deuceace to 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


47 


me one day (he always spoak in that kind way), 
“who is this person that has taken the opsit 
chambers, and plays the flute so industrusly ?” 

“It’s Mr. Dawkins, a rich young gentleman 
from Oxford, and a great friend of Mr. Blew- 
ittses, sir,” says I; “they seem to live in each 
other’s rooms.” 

Master said nothink, but he grin’d — my eye, 
how he did grin. Not the fowl find himself 
could snear more satannickly. 

I knew what he meant : 

Imprimish. A man who plays the floot is a 
simpleton. 

Secknly. Mr. Blewitt is a raskle. 

Thirdmo. When a raskle and a simpleton. is 
always together, and when the simpleton is 
rich , one knows pretty well what will come of it. 

I was but a lad in them days, but I knew 
what was what, as well as my master; it’s not 
gentlemen only that’s up to snough. Law bless 
us ! there was four of us on this stairkes, four 
as nice young men as you ever see : Mr. Bruffy’a 
young man, Mr. Dawkinses, Mr. Blewitt’s, and 
me — and we knew what our masters was about 
as well as they did theirselfs. Frinstance, I 
can say this for myself , there wasn’t a paper in 
Deuceace’s desk or drawer, not a bill, a note, oi 
mimerandum, which I hadn’t read as well as 


48 The Yellowplush Papers. 

he : with Blewitt’s it was the same — me and his 
young man used to read ’em all. There wasn’t 
a bottle of wine that we didn’t get a glass out of, 
nor a pound of sugar that we didn’t have some 
lumps of it. We had keys to all the cubbards — 
we pipped into all the letters that kem and 
went — we pored over all the bill-files — we’d the 
best pickens out of the dinners, the livvers of 
the fowls, the force-mit balls out of the soup, 
the egs from the sallit. As for the coals and 
candles, we left them to the landrisses. You 
may call this robry — nonsince — it’s only our 
rights — a suvvant’s purquizzits is as sacred as 
the laws of Hengland. 

Well, the long and short of it is this. Rich- 
ard Blewitt, esquire, was sityouated as follows : 
He’d an incum of three hundred a year from 
his father. Out of this he had to pay one hun- 
derd and ninety for money borrowed by him 
at collidge, seventy for chambers, seventy more 
for his hoss, aty for his suvvant on bord wagis, 
and about three hundred and fifty for a sep- 
parat establishment in the Regency Park; be- 
sides this, his pockit-money, say a hundred, his 
eatin, drinkin, and wine-marchant’s bill, about 
two hunderd moar. So that you see he laid by 
a p^tty handsome sum at the end of the year, 
y master was diffrent; and being a more 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 49 

fashnable man than Mr. B., in course he owed 
a deal more mony. There was fust : 

Account contrary, at Crockford’s £3,711 0 0 

Bills of xchange and I. O. U.’s (but 
he didn’t pay these in most cases) . 4,963 0 0 


21 tailors’ bills, in all 1,306 11 9 

3 hossdealers’ do 402 0 0 

2 coachbuilder 506 0 0 

Bills contracted at Cambridtch 2,193 6 8 

Sundries 987 10 0 


£14,069 8 5 

I give this as a curosity — pipple doan’t know 
how in many cases fashnabble life is carried on ; 
and to know even what a real genlmn owes is 
somethink instructif and agreeable. 

But to my tail. The very day after my mas- 
ter had made the inquiries concerning Mr. 
Dawkins, witch I mentioned already, he met 
Mr. Blewitt on the stairs ; and byoutiffle it was 
to see how this gnlmn, who had before been al- 
most cut by my master, was now received by 
him. One of the sweetest smiles I ever saw 
was now vizzable on Mr. Deuceace’s counte- 
nance. He held out his hand, covered with a 
white kid glove, and said, in the most frenly 
tone of vice posbill, “What ? Mr. Blewitt ? It is 
an age since we met. What a shame that such 
near naybors, should see each other so seldom l” 


50 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


' Mr. Blewitt, who was standing at his door, in 
a pe-green dressing-gown, smoakin a segar, and 
singing a hunting coarus, looked surprised, flat- 
tered, and then suspicious. 

“Why, yes,” says he, “it is, Mr. Deuceace, a 
long time.” 

“Not, I think, since we dined at Sir George 
Hookey’s. By the bye, what an evening that 
was — hay, Mr. Blewitt ? What wine ! what 
capital songs ! I recollect your ‘May-day in the 
morning’ — cuss me, the best comick song I ever 
heard. I was speaking to the Duke of Doncas- 
ter about it only yesterday. You know the 
duke, I think ?” 

Mr. Blewitt said, quite surly, “No, I don’t.” 

“Not know him!” cries master; “why, hang 
it, Blewitt! he knows you ; as every sporting 
man in England does, I should think. Why, 
man, your good things are in everybody’s 
mouth at Newmarket.” 

And so master went on chaffin Mr. Blewitt. 
That genlmn at fust answered him quite short 
and angry; but, after a little more flummery, 
he grew as pleased as posbill, took in all Deuce- 
ace’s flattery, and bleeved all his lies. At last 
the door shut, and they both went into Mr. 
Blewitt’s chambers together. 

Of course, I can’t say what past there ; but in 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


51 


an hour master kem up to his own room as yal- 
ler as mustard, and smellin sadly of backo- 
smoke, I never see any genmln more sick than 
he was; he'd been smoaJcin seagars along with 
Blewitt. I said nothink, in course, tho I’d 
often heard him xpress his horrow of backo, 
and knew very well he would as soon swallow 
pizon as smoke. But he wasn’t a chap to do a 
thing without a reason : if he’d been smoakin, I 
warrant he had smoked to some porpus. 

I didn’t hear the conversation betwean ’em ; 
but Mr. Blewitt’s man did. It was: “Well, Mr. 
Blewitt, what capital seagars! Have you one 
for a friend to smoak?” (The old fox, it 
wasn’t only the seagars he was a-smoakin!) 
“Walk in,” says Mr. Blewitt; and they began a 
chaffin together; master very ankshous about 
the young gintleman who had come to live in 
our chambers, Mr. Dawkins, and always com- 
ing back to that subject, saying that people on 
the same stairkis ot to be f renly ; how glad he’d 
be, for his part, to know Mr. Dick Blewitt, and 
any friend of his , and so on. Mr. Dick, hows- 
ever, seamed quite aware of the trap laid for 
him. “I really don’t know this Dawkins,” 
says he; “he’s a chismonger’s son, I hear; and 
tho I’ve exchanged visits with him, I doan’t 

intend to continyou the acquaintance, not wish- 
4 


52 The Yellowplush Papers. 

in to assoshate with that kind of pipple.” So 
they went on, master fishin, and Mr. Blewitt 
not wishin to take the hook at no price. 

“Confound the vulgar thief !” muttered my 
master, as he was lying on his sophy, after being 
so very ill ; “I’ve poisoned myself with his infer- 
nal tobacco, and he has foiled me. The cursed 
swindling boor ! He thinks he’ll ruin this poor 
cheesemonger, does he? I’ll step in, and warn 
him.” 

I thought I should bust a-laffin, when he 
talked in this style. I knew very well what his 
“warning” meant — lockin the stable-door but 
stealin the hoss fust. 

Next day, his strattygam for becoming ac- 
quainted with Mr. Dawkins we exicuted; and 
very pritty it was. 

Besides potry and the flute, Mr. Dawkins, I 
must tell you, had some other parshallities — 
wiz., he was very fond of good eatin and drink- 
in. After doddling over his music and boox all 
day, this young genlmn used to sally out of 
evenings, dine sumptiously at a tavern, drinkin 
all sots of wine along with his friend Mr. Blew- 
itt. He was a quiet young fellow enough at 
fust; but it was Mr. B. who (for his own por- 
puses, no doubt) had got him into this kind of 
life. Well, I needn’t say that he who eats a 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


53 


fine dinner, and drinks too much overnight, 
wants a bottle of soda-water, and a gril, praps, 
in the morning. Such was Mr. Dawkinses 
case; and reglar almost as twelve o’clock came, 
the waiter from “Dix Coffy-House” was to be 
seen on our stairkis, bringing up Mr. D.’s hot 
breakfast. 

No man would have thought there was any- 
think in such a trifling cirkumstance ; master 
did, though, and pounced upon it like a cork on 
a barlycorn. 

He sent me out to Mr. Morell’s in Pickle- 
dilly, for wot’s called a Strasbug-pie — in 
French, a “patty defau graw.” He takes a 
card, and nails it on the outside case (patty de- 
faw graws come genrally in a round wooden 
box, like a drumb) and what do you think he 
writes on it? Why, as folios: “For the Hon- 
orable Algernon Percy Deuceace , etc. With 
Prince Talleyrand's compliments. 

Prince Tallyram’s complimints, indeed ! I laff 
when I think of it, still, the old surpint ! He 
was a surpint, that Deuceace, and no mistake. 

Well, by a most extrornary piece of ill-luck, 
the nex day punctially as Mr. Dawkinses brex- 
fas was coming up the stairs, Mr. Halgernon 
Percy Deuceace was going down. He was as 
gay as a lark, humming an opera tune, and 


54 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


twizzting round his head his hevy gold-headed 
cane. Down he went very fast, and by a most 
unlucky axdent struck his cane against the 
waitPs tray, and away went Mr. Dawkinses 
gril, kayann, kitchup, soda-water and all! I 
can’t think how my master should have choas 
such an exact time ; to be sure, his windo looked 
upon the cort, and he could see every one who 
Came into our door. 

As soon as the axdent had took place, master 
was in such a rage as, to be sure, no man ever 
was in befor ; he swoar at the waiter in the most 
dreddfle way ; he threatened him with his stick, 
and it was only when he see that the waiter was 
rayther a bigger man than hisself that he was 
in the least pazzyfied. He returned to his own 
chambers, and John, the waiter, went off for 
more gril to Dixes Coffy-house. 

“This is a most unlucky axdent, to be sure, 
Charles/’ says master to me, after a few minits’ 
paws, during witch he had been and wrote a 
note, put it into an envelope, and sealed it with 
his big seal of arms. “But stay — a thought 
strikes me — take this note to Mr. Dawkins, and 
that pye you brought yesterday; and hearkye. 
you scoundrel, if you say where you got it I will 
break every bone in your skin !” 

These kind of prommises were among the few 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


55 


which I knew him to keep ; and as I loved boath 
my skinn and my boans, I carried the noat, and 
of cors said nothink. Waiting in Mr. Daw- 
kinses chambus for a few minnits, I returned to 
my master with an anser. I may as well give 
both of these documence, of which I happen to 
have taken coppies : 

I. 


THE HON. A. P. DEUCEACE TO T. S. DAW- 
KINS, ESQ. 

“Temple, Tuesday. 

“Mr. Deuceace presents his compliments to Mr. 
Dawkins, and begs at the same time to offer his 
most sincere apologies and regrets for the accident 
which has just taken place. 

“May Mr. Deuceace be allowed to take a neigh- 
bor's privilege and to remedy the evil he has occa- 
sioned to the best of his power? If Mr. Dawkins 
will do him the favor to partake of the contents 
of the accompanying case (from Strasbourg direct, 
and the gift of a friend, on whose taste as a gour- 
mand Mr. Dawkins may rely), perhaps he will find 
that it is not a bad substitute for the plat which 
Mr. Deuceace’s awkwardness destroyed. 

“It will also, Mr. Deuceace is sure, be no small 
gratification to the original donor of the pat6, 
when he learns that it has fallen into the hands of 
so celebrated a bon vivant as Mr. Dawkins. 

“T. S. Dawkins, Esq., etc., etc., etc.” 


56 The Yellowplush Papers. 

II. 

FROM T. S. DAWKINS, ESQ., TO THE HON. A. 

P. DEUCEACE. 

"Mr. Thomas Smith Dawkins presents his 
grateful compliments to the Hon. Mr. Deuceace, 
and accepts with the greatest pleasure Mr. Deuce- 
ace’s generous proffer. 

"It would be one of the happiest moments of Mr. 
Smith Dawkins’s life, if the Hon. Mr. Deuceace 
would extend his generosity still further, and con- 
descend to partake of the repast which his munifi- 
cent politeness has furnished. 

"Temple, Tuesday.” 

Many and many a time, I say, have I grin’d 
over these letters, which I had wrote from the 
original by Mr. Bruffy’s copyin dark. Deuce- 
ace’s flam about Prince Tallyram was puffickly 
successful. I saw young Dawkins blush with 
delite as he red the note ; he toar up for or five 
sheets before he composed the answer to it, 
which was as you red abuff, and roat in a hand 
quite trembling with pleasyer. If you could 
but have seen the look of triumph in Deuceace’s 
wicked black eyes, when he read the noat ! I 
never see a deamin yet, but I can phansy, a 
holding a writhing soal on his pitchfork, and 
smilin like Deuceace. He dressed himself in 
his very best clothes, and in he went, after send- 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


57 


in g me over to say that he would xcept with 
pleasyour Mr. Dawkins’s invite. 

The pie was cut up, and a most frenly con- 
versation begun betwixt the two genlmin. 
Deuceace was quite captivating. He spoke to 
Mr. Dawkins in the most respeckful and flatrin 
manner — agread in every think he said — prazed 
his taste, his furniter, his coat, his classick nol- 
ledge, and his playin on the floot; you’d have 
thought, to hear him, that such a polygon of 
exlens as Dawkins did not breath — that such a 
modist, sinsear, honrabble genlmn as Deuceace 
was to be seen nowhere xcept in Pump Cort. 
Poor Daw was complitly taken in. My master 
said he’d introduce him to the Duke of Doncas- 
ter, and heaven knows how many nobs more, till 
Dawkins was quite intawsicated with pleasyour. 
I know as a fac (and it pretty well shows the 
young genlmn’s carry ter) that he went that 
very day and ordered 2 new coats, on porpos to 
be introjuiced to the lords in. 

But the best joak of all was at last. Singin, 
swagrin and swarink — up stares came Mr. Dick 
Blewitt. He flung open Mr. Dawkins’s door, 
shouting out, “Daw, my old buck, how are 
you ?” when, all of a sudden, he sees Mr. Deuce- 
ace ; his jor dropt, he turned chocky white, and 
then burnin red, and looked as if a stror would 


58 The Yellowplush Papers. 

knock him down. “My dear Mr. Blewitt,” says 
my master, smilin and offring his hand, “how 
glad I am to see you. Mr. Dawkins and I were 
just talking about your pony ! Pray sit down.” 

Blewitt did; and now was the question, who 
should sit the other out; but law bless you! 
Mr. Blewitt was no match for my master. All 
the time he was fidgetty, silent, and sulky; on 
the contry, master was charmin. I never herd 
such a flo of conversation, or so many witta- 
cisms as he uttered. At last, completely beat, 
Mr. Blewitt took his leaf; that instant master 
followed him ; and passin his arm through that 
of Mr. Dick, led him into our chambers, and 
began talkin to him in the most affabl and af- 
feckshnat manner. 

But Dick was too angry to listen; at last, 
when master was telling him some long story 
about the Duke of Doncaster, Blewitt burst out : 

“A plague on the Duke of Doncaster ! Come, 
come, Mr. Deuceace, don’t you be running your 
rigs upon me. I ain’t the man to be bamboozl’d 
by long-winded stories about dukes and duch- 
esses. You think I don’t know you; every man 
knows you, you and your line of country. Yes, 
you’re after young Dawkins there, and think to 

pluck him ; but you shan’t — no, by you 

shan’t.” (The reader must recklect that the 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


59 


oaths which interspussed Mr. B.’s convysation I 
have left out.) Well, after he’d fired a wolley 
of ’em, Mr. Deuceace spoke as cool as possbill. 

“Heark ye, Blewitt. I know you to be one of 
the most infernal thieves and scoundrels un- 
hung. If you attempt to hector with me, I will 
cane you; if you want more, I’ll shoot you; if 
you meddle between me and Dawkins, I will do 
both. I know your whole life, you miserable 
swindler and coward. I know you have already 
won two hundred pounds of this lad, and want 
all. I will have half, or you never shall have a 
penny.” It’s quite true that master knew 
things ; but how was the wonder. 

I couldn’t see Mr. B.’s face during this dia- 
logue, bein on the wrong side of the door; but 
there was a considdrable paws after thuse com- 
plymints had passed between the two genlmn — 
one walkin quickly up and down the room — 
tother, angry and stupid, sittin down, and 
stampin with his foot. 

“Now listen to this, Mr. Blewitt,” continues 
master at last. “If you’re quiet, you shall half 
this fellow’s money; but venture to win a shil- 
ling from him in my absence, or without my 
consent, and you do it at your peril.” 

“Well, well, Mr. Deuceace,” cries Dick; “it’s 
very hard, and I must say, not fair. The game 


60 The Yellowplush Papers. 

was of my startin, and you’ve no right to inter- 
fere with my friend.” 

“Mr. Blewitt, you are a fool ! You professed 
yesterday not to know this man, and I was 
obliged to find him out for myself. I should 
like to know by what law of honor I am bound 
to give him up to you ?” 

It was charmin to hear this pair of raskles 
talkin about honor. I declare I could have 
found it in my heart to warn young Dawkins of 
the precious way in which these chaps were go- 
ing to serve him. But if they didn’t know what 
honor was, / did; and never, never did I tell 
tails about my masters when in their sarvice — 
out , in cors, the hobligation is no longer bind- 
ing. 

Well, the nex day there was a gran dinner at 
our chambers. White soop, turbit, and lobstir 
sos ; saddil of Scoch muttn, grous, and 
M’Arony; wines, shampang, hock, madeira, a 
bottle of poart, and ever so many of clarrit. The 
company presint was three; wiz., the Honrab- 
ble A. P. Deuceace, R. Blewitt, and Mr. Daw- 
kins, Exquires. My i, how we genlmn in the 
kitchin did enjy it. Mr. Blewittes man eat so 
much grous (when it was brot out of the par- 
lor) that I reely thought he would be sik ; Mr. 
Dawkinses genlmn (who was only abowt 13 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


61 


years of age) grew so il with M’Arony and 
plumb-puddn, as to be obleeged to take sefral 
of Mr. D/s pils, which £ kild him. But this is 
all promiscuous. I ain’t talkin of the survants 
now, but the masters. 

Would you bleeve it? After dinner and 
praps 8 bottles of wine between the 3, the 
genlmn sat down to ecarty. It’s a game where 
only 2 plays, and where, in coarse, when there’s 
only 3, one looks on. 

Fust, they playd crown pints, and a pound 
the bett. At this game they were wonderful 
equill; and about supper time (when grilled 
am, more shampang, devld biskits and other 
things was brot in) the play stood thus: Mr. 
Dawkins had won 2 pounds; Mr. Blewitt, 30 
shillings; the Honrabble Mr. Deuceace having 
lost 31. 105. After the devvle and the sham- 
pang the play was a little higher. Now it was 
pound pints, and five pound the bet. I thought, 
to be sure, after hearing the complymints be- 
tween Blewitt and master in the morning, that 
now poor Dawkins’s time was come. 

Not so. Dawkins won always, Mr. B. betting 
on his play, and giving him the very best of ad- 
vice. At the end of the evening (which wa9 
abowt five o’clock the nex morning) they stopt. 
Master was counting up the skore on a card. 


62 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


"Blewitt,” says he, "I’ve been unlucky. I 
owe you — let me see — yes, five-and-forty 
pounds ?” 

"Five-and-forty,” says Blewitt, "and no mis- 
take !” 

"I will give you a cheque.” says the honrab- 
ble genlmn. 

"Oh ! don’t mention it, my dear sir !” But 
master got a grate sheet of paper and drew him 
a check on Messeers. Pump, Algit and Co., his 
bankers. 

"Now,” says master, "I’ve got to settle with 
you, my dear Mr. Dawkins. If you had backd 
your luck, I should have owed you a very hand- 
some sum of money. Voyons, thirteen points 
at a pound — it is easy to calculate ;” and drawin 
out his puss, he clinked over the table 13 gool- 
den suverings, which shon till they made my 
eyes wink. 

So did pore Dawkinses, as he put out his 
hand, all trembling, and drew them in. 

"Let me say,” added master; "let me say 
(and Fve had some little experience), that you 
are the very best ecarte player with whom I ever 
sat down.” 

Dawkinses eyes glissened as he put the money 
up, and said : "Law, Deuceace, you flatter 
me.” 






The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


65 


Flatter him ! I should think he did. It was 
the very think which master ment. 

“But, mind you, Dawkins,” continyoud he, “I 
must have my revenge; for I’m ruined — posi- 
tively ruined — by your luck.” 

“Well, well,” says Mr. Thomas Smith Daw- 
kins, as pleased as if he had gained a millium, 
“shall it be to-morrow? Blewitt, what say 
you?” 

Mr. Blewitt agreed, in course. My master, 
after a little demurring, consented too. “We’ll 
meet,” says he, “at your chambers. But mind, 
my dear fello, not too much wine. I can’t 
stand it at any time, especially when I have to 
play ecarte with you/* 

Pore Dawkins left our rooms as happy as a 
prins. “Here, Charles,” says he, and flung me 
a sovring. Pore fellow! pore fellow! I knew 
what was a-comin ! 

But the best of it was, that these 13 sovrings 
which Dawkins won, master had borrowed them 
from Mr. Blewitt! I brought ’em, with 7 
more, from that young genlmn’s chambers that 
very morning; for, since his interview with 
master, Blewitt had nothing to refuse him. 

Well, shall I continue the tail ? If Mr. Daw- 
kins had been the least bit wiser, it would have 


66 The Yellowplush Papers. 

taken him six months bef oar he lost his money ; 
as it was, he was such a confunded ninny, that 
it took him a very short time to part with it. 

Nex day (it was Thursday, and master’s ac- 
quaintance with Mr. Dawkins had only com- 
menced on Tuesday) Mr. Dawkins, as I said, 
gev his party— dinner at 7. Mr. Blewitt and 
the two Mr. D.’s as befoar. Play begins at 11. 
This time I knew the bisness was pretty serious, 
for we suvvants was packed off to bed at 2 
o’clock. On Friday I went to chambers — no 
master — he kem in for 5 minutes at about 12, 
made a little toilit, ordered more devvles and 
soda-water, and back again he went to Mr. 
Dawkins’s. 

They had dinner there at 7 again, but nobody 
seamed to eat, for all the vittles came out to us 
genlmn. They had in more wine though, and 
must have drunk at least two dozen in the 36 
hours. 

At ten o’clock, however, on Friday night, 
back my master came to his chambers. I saw 
him as I never saw him before, namly reglar 
drunk. He staggered about the room, he 
danced, he hickipd, he swoar, he flung me a 
heap of silver, and, finely, he sunk down exost- 
ed on his bed; I pullin off his boots and close, 
and making him comfrabble. 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


67 


When I had removed his garmints, I did 
what it’s the duty of every servant to do — I em- 
tied his pockits, and looked at his pockitbook 
and all his letters. A number of axdents have 
been prevented that way. 

I found there, among a heap of things, the 
following pretty dockyment : 


I. 0. U. 

£4,700. 

Thomas Dawkins Smith. 
Friday , 16th January. 


There was another bit of paper of the same 
kind — “I. 0. U. four hundred pounds : Richard 
Blewitt;” but this, in corse, ment nothink. 

* * * * * * 

Hex mornin, at nine, master was up, and as 
sober as a judg. He drest, and was off to Mr. 
Dawkins. At ten he ordered a cab, and the two 
gentlmn went together. 

“Wher shall he drive, sir V* says I. 

“Oh, tell him to drive to the Bank/' 

Pore Dawkins ! His eyes red with remors 
and sleepliss drunkenniss, gave a shudder and a 


68 The Yellowplush Papers. 

sob, as he sunk back in the wehicle and they 
drove on. 

That day he sold out every hapny he was 
worth, xcept five hundred pounds. 

****** 

Ahowt 12 master had returned, and Mr. Dick 
Blewitt came stridin up the stairs with a solium 
and important hair. 

“Is your master at home?” says he. 

“Yes, sir,” says I; and in he walks. I, in 
coars, with my ear to the keyhole, listening with 
all my mite. 

“Well,” says Blewitt, “we maid a pretty good 
night of it, Mr. Deuceace. Yu’ve settled, I see, 
with Dawkins.” 

“Settled!” says master. “Oh, yes— yes — 
I’ve settled with him.” 

“Four thousand seven hundred, I think ?” ' 

“Abut that — yes.” 

“That makes my share — let me see-— two 
thousand three hundred and fifty; which I'll 
thank you to fork out.” 

“Upon my word — why — Mr. Blewitt,” says 
master, “I don’t really understand what you 
mean.” 

“You don't know what I mean!" says Blew- 
itt, in an axent such as I never before heard. 
“You don’t know what I mean! Did you not 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


69 


promise me that we were to go shares ? Didn’t 
I lend you twenty sovereigns the other night to 
pay our losings to Dawkins ? Didn’t you swear, 
on your honor as a gentleman, to give me half 
of all that might be won in this affair?” 

“Agreed, sir,” says Deuceace; “agreed.” 

“Well, sir, and now what have you to say?” 

“Why, that I don’t intend to keep my prom- 
ise! You infernal fool and ninny ! Do you 
suppose I was laboring for you ? Do you fancy 
I was going to the expens of giving a dinner to 
that jackass yonder that you should profit by it? 
Get away, sir ! Leave the room, sir ! Or, stop 
— here — I will give you four hundred pounds — 
your own note of hand, sir, for that sum, if you 
will consent to forget all that has passed be- 
tween us, and that you have ever known Mr. 
Algernon Deuceace.” 

I’ve seen pipple angry before now, but never 
any like Blewitt. He stormed, groaned, hel- 
loed, swoar! At last, he fairly began blub- 
bring; now cussing and nashing his teeth, now 
praying dear Mr. Deuceace to grant him mercy. 

At last, master flung open the door (heaven 
bless us ! it’s well I didn’t tumbel hed over eels 
into the room!) and said: “Charles, show the 
gentleman downstairs !” My master looked at 
him quite steddy. Blewitt slunk down, as mis- 


70 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


erable as any man I ever see. As for Dawkins, 
heaven knows where he was ! 

****** 
“Charles,” says my master to me, about an 
hour afterwards, “I’m going to Paris ; you may 
come, too, if you please.” 


FOKINGr PARTS. 

It was a singular proof of my master’s mod*, 
esty, that though he had won this andsome sum 
of Mr. Dawkins, and was inclined to be as ex- 
travygant and osntatious as any man I ever 
seed, yet, when he determined on going to Paris, 
he didn’t let a single frend know of all them 
winnings of his ; didn’t acquaint my Lord Crabs 
his father that he was about to leave his natiff 
shoars — neigh — didn’t even so much as call to- 
gether his tradesmin, and pay off their little 
bills befor his departure. 

On the contry, “Chawles,” said he to me, 
“stick a piece of paper on my door,” which is 
the way that lawyers do, “and write ‘Back at 
seven’ upon it.” Back at seven I wrote, and 
stuck it on our outer oak. And so mistearus 
was Deuceace about his continental tour (to 
all except me) that when the landriss brought 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


71 


him her account for the last month (amountain, 
at the very least, to 21. 10s.), master told her to 
leave it till Monday morning, when it should be 
properly settled. It’s extrodny how ickonomi- 
cal a man becomes, when he's got five thousand 
lbs. in his pockit. 

Back at 7 indeed ! At 7 we were a-roalin on 
the Dover Road, in the Reglator Coach — master 
inside, me out. A strange company of people 
there was, too, in that wehicle — 3 sailors; an 
Italyin with his music-box and munky; a mis- 
sionary, going to convert the heathens in 
France; 2 oppra girls (they call 'em figure- 
aunts), and the figure-aunts' mothers inside; 
4 Frenchmin, with gingybred caps and mus- 
tashes, singing, chattering, and jesticklating in 
the most vonderful vay. Such compliments as 
passed between them and the figure-aunts ! 
such a munshin of biskits and sippin of brandy ! 
such “0 mong Jews," and “0 sacrrrds," and 
“kill fay f rwaws !" I didn’t understand their 
languidge at that time, so of course can’t ig- 
splin much of their conwersation ; but it| 
pleased me, nevertheless, for now I felt that I 
was reely going into foring parts; which, ever 
sins I had had any edication at all, was always 
my fondest wish. Heavin bless us ! thought I, 
if these are specimeens of all Frenchmen, what 


72 The Yellowplush Papers. 

a set they must be. The pore Italyin’s monky, 
sittin mopin and meluncolly on his box, was 
not half so ugly, and seamed quite as reason- 
able. 

Well, we arrived at Dover — “Ship Hotel” — 
weal cutlets half a ginny, glas of ale a shilling, 
glas of neagush, half-a-crownd, a hapny-worth 
of wax-lites four shillings, and so on. But mas- 
ter paid without grumbling; as long as it was 
for himself he never minded the expens: and 
nex day we embarked in the packit for Balong 
sir-mare — which means in French, the town of 
Balong sityouated on the sea. I who had heard 
of foring wonders, expected this to be the fust 
and greatest: phansy, then, my disapintment, 
when we got there, to find this Balong, not 
situated on the sea, but on the shoar. 

But oh ! the gettin there was the bisniss. How 
I did wish for Pump Court agin, as we were 
tawsing abowt in the Channel! Gentle reader, 
av you ever been on the otion? — “The sea, the 
sea, the open sea!” as Barry Cromwell says. 
As soon as we entered our little wessel, and I’d 
looked to master’s luggitch and mine (mine 
was rapt up in a very small hankercher), as 
soon, I say, as we entered our little wessel, as 
soon as I saw the waives, black and frothy, like 
fresh drawn porter, a-dashin against the ribs 



( 73 ) 




















































* 
















The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


75 


of our galliant bark, the keal like a wedge, 
splittin the billoes in two, the sales a-flaffin in 
the hair, the standard of Hengland floating at 
the mask-head, the steward a-getting ready the 
basins and things, the capting proudly tred- 
ding the deck and giving orders to the salers, 
the white rox of Albany and the bathin-ma- 
sheens disappearing in the distans — then, then 
I felt, for the first time, the mite, the madgisty 
of existence. “Yellowplush, my boy,” said I, 
in a dialogue with myself, “your life is now 
about to commens — your carear, as a man, dates 
from your entrans on board this packit. Be 
wise, be manly, be cautious, forgit the follies of 
your youth. You are no longer a boy now, but 
a footman. Throw down your tops, your mar- 
bles, your boyish games — throw off your child- 
' ish habbits with your inky clerk’s jackit — throw 
up your ” 

****** 
Here, I recklect, I was obleeged to stopp. A 
fealin, in the fust place singlar, in the next 
place painful, and at last compleatly overpow- 
ering, had come upon me while I was making 
the abuff speach, and now I found myself in a 
sityouation which Dellixy for Bids me to de- 
scribe. Suffis to say, that now I dixcovered 
what basins was made for — that for many, 


76 The Yellowplush Papers. 

many hours, I lay in a hagony of exostion, dead 
to all intense and porpuses, the rain pattering in 
my face, the salers tramplink over my body — 
the panes of purgatory going on inside. When 
we’d been about four hours in this sityouation 
(it seam’d to me four ears), the steward comes 
to that part of the deck where we servants 
were all huddled up together, and calls out 
“Charles !” 

“Well,” says I, gurgling out a faint “yes, 
what’s the matter?” 

“You’re wanted.” 

“Where?” 

“Your master’s wery ill,” says he, with a 
grin. 

“Master be hanged!” says I, turning round, 
more misrable than ever. I woodn’t have moved 
that day for twenty thousand masters — no, not 
for the Empror of Russia or the Pop of Room. 

Well, to cut this sad subjik short, many and 
many a voyitch have I sins ha^ upon what 
Shakspur calls the “wasty dip,” but never such 
a retched one as that from Dover to Balong, in 
the year Anna Domino 1818. Steemers were 
scarce in those days ; and our journey was made 
in a smack. At last, when I was in a stage of 
despare and exostion, as reely to phansy myself 
at Death’s doar, we got to the end of our jour- 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


77 


ney. Late in the evening we hailed the Gaelic 
shoars, and hankered in the arbor of Balong 
sir-mare. 

It was the entrans of Parrowdice to me and 
master : and as we entered the calm water, and 
saw the comfrabble lights gleaming in the 
houses, and I felt the roal of the vessel degreas- 
ing, never was two mortials gladder, I warrant, 
than we were. At length our capting drew up 
at the key, and our journey was down. But 
such a bustle and clatter, such jabbering, such 
shrieking and swaring, such wollies of oafs and 
axicrations as saluted us on landing, I never 
knew ! We were boarded, in the fust place, by 
custom-house officers in cock-hats, who seased 
our luggitch, and called for our passpots : then 
a crowd of inn-waiters came, tumbling and 
screaming on deck — “Dis way, sare,” cries one ; 
“Hotel Meurice,” says another; “Hotel de 
Bang,” screeches another chap — the tower of 
Babyle was nothink to it. The fust thing that 
struck me on landing was a big fellow with ear- 
rings, who very nigh knock me down, in wrench- 
ing master’s carpet-bag out of my hand, as 1 
was carrying it to the hotell. But we got to it 
safe at last ; and, for the fust time in my life, I 
slep in a foring country. 

I shan’t describe this town of Balong, which, 


78 The Yellowplush Papers. 

as it has been ‘visited by not less (on an avar- 
idg) than two milliums of English since I fust 
saw it twenty years ago, is tolrabbly well known 
already. It’s a dingy, mellumcolly place, to my 
mind; the only thing moving in the streets is 
the gutter which runs down ’em. As for wood- 
en shoes, I saw few of ’em ; and for frogs, upon 
my honor I never see a single Frenchman 
swallow one, which I had been led to beleave 
was their reg’lar, though beastly, custom. One 
thing which amazed me was the singlar name 
which they give to this town of Balong. It’s 
divided, as every boddy knows, into an upper 
town (sitouate on a mounting, and surrounded 
by a wall, or bully var) and a lower town, 
which is on the level of the sea. Well, will it 
be believed that they call the upper town the 
Hot Veal , and the other the Base Veal , which 
is on the contry genrally good in France, 
though the beaf, it must be contest, is exscrab- 
ble. 

It was in the Base Yeal that Deuceace took 
his lodgian, at the Hotel de Bang, in a very 
crooked street called the Rue del Ascew; and if 
he’d been the Archbishop of Devonshire, or the 
Duke of Canterbury, he could not have given 
himself greater hairs, I can tell you. Nothink 
was too fine for us now; we had a sweet of 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


79 


rooms on the first floor, which belonged to the 
prime minister of France (at least the landlord 
said they were the premier's) ; and the Hon. 
Algernon Percy Deuceace, who had not paid his 
landriss, and came to Dover in a coach, seamed 
now to think that goold was too vulgar for him, 
and a carridge and six would break down with 
a man of his weight. Shampang flew about 
like ginger-pop, besides bordo, clarit, burgundy, 
burgong, and other wines, and all the delixes 
of the Balong kitchins. We stopped a fortnit 
at this dull place, and did nothing from morn- 
ing till night excep walk on the beach, and 
watch the ships going in and out of arber, with 
one of them long, sliding opra-glasses, which 
they call, I don’t know why, tallow-scoops. Our 
amusements for the fortnit we stopped here 
were boath numerous and daliteful; nothink, 
in fact, could be more pickong, as they say. In 
the morning before breakfast we boath walked 
on the Peer; master in a blue mareen jackit, 
and me in a slap-up new livry; both provided 
with long sliding opra-glasses, called as I said 
(I don’t know Y, but I suppose it’s a scien- 
tafiek term) tallow-scoops. With these we igs- 
amined, very attentively, the otion, the sea- 
weed, the pebbles, the dead cats, the fishwim- 
min, and the waives (like little children play- 


80 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


ing at leap-frog), which came tumbling over 1 
another on to the shoar. It seemed to me as 
if they were scrambling to get there, as well 
they might, being sick of the sea, and anxious 
for the blessid, peaceable terry firmy. 

After brexfast, down we went again (that is, 
master on his beat, and me on mine — for my 
place in this foring town was a complete shiny- 
cure ), and putting our tally-scoops again in our 
eyes, we egsamined a little more the otion, peb- 
bils, dead cats, and so on; and this lasted till 
dinner, and dinner till bed-time, and bed-time 
lasted till nex day, when came brekfast, and 
dinner, and tally-scooping, as before. This is 
the way with all people of this town, of which, 
as Fve heard say, there is ten thousand happy 
English, who lead this plesnt life from year’s 
end to year’s end. 

Besides this, there’s billiards and gambling 
for the gentlemen, a little dancing for the gals, 
and scandle for the dowygers. In none of these 
amusements did we partake. We were a little 
too good to play crown pints at cards, and never 
get paid when we won; or to go dangling after 
the portionless gals, or amuse ourselves with 
slops and penny-wist along with the old ladies. 
No, no; my master was a man of fortn now, 
and behayved himself as sich. If ever he con- 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


81 


dysended to go into the public room of the 
Hotel de Bang — the French (doubtless for rea- 
sons best known to themselves) call this a sally- 
manjy — he swoar more and lowder than any 
one there; he abyoused the waiters, the wittles, 
the wines. With his glas in his i, he staired at 
every body. He took always the place before 
the fire. He talked about “my carridge,” “my 
currier,” “my servant;” and he did wright. 
I’ve always found through life, that if you wish 
to be respected by English people, you must be 
insalent to them, especially if you are a sprig 
of nobiliaty. We like being insulted by noble- 
men — it shows they’re familiar with us. Law 
bless us ! I’ve known many and many a genlmn 
about town who’d rather be kicked by a lord 
than not be noticed by him; they’ve even had 
an aw of me, because I was a lord’s footman. 
While my master was hectoring in the parlor, 
at Balong, pretious airs I gave myself in the 
kitching, I can tell you; and the consequints 
was, that we were better served, and moar liked, 
than many pipple with twice our merit. 

Deuceace had some particklar plans, no 
doubt, which kep him so long at Balong ; and it 
clearly was his wish to act the man of fortune 
there for a little time before he tried the char- 
acter at Paris. He purchased a carridge, he 


82 The Yellowplush Papers. 

hired a currier, he rigged me in a fine new 
livry blazin with lace, and he past through the 
Balong bank a thousand pounds of the money 
he had won from Dawkins, to his credit at a 
Paris house ; showing the Balong bankers at the 
same time that he’d plenty moar in his port- 
folie. This was killin two birds with one stone ; 
the bankers’ clerks spread the nuse over the 
town, and in a day after master had paid the 
money every old dowyger in Balong had looked 
out the Crabs’ family pedigree in the Peeridge, 
and was quite intimate with the Deuceace name 
and estates. If Sattan himself were a lord, I 
do beleave there’s many vurtuous English 
mothers would be glad to have him for a son-in- 
law. 

Now, though my master had thought fitt to 
leave town without excommunicating with his 
father on the subject of his intended continent- 
al tripe, as soon as he was settled at Balong he 
roat my Lord Crabbs a letter, of which I hap- 
pen to have a copy. It ran thus : 

“Boulogne, January 25. 

“My Dear Father — I have long, in the course of 
my legal studies, found the necessity of a knowl- 
edge of French, in which language all the early 
history of our profession is written, and have de- 
termined to take a little relaxation from chamber 


The Amours of Mr. Deueeace. 83 

reading, which has seriously injured my health. 
If my modest finances can bear a two months’ 
Journey, and a residence at Paris, I propose to re- 
main there that period. 

“Will you have the kindness to send me a letter 
of introduction to Lord Bobtail, our ambassador? 
My name, and your old friendship with him, I 
know would secure me a reception at his house, 
but a pressing letter from yourself would at once 
be more courteous, and more effectual. 

“May I also ask you for my last quarter’s salary? 
I am not an expensive man, my dear father, as you 
know; but we are no chameleons, and fifty pounds 
(with my little earnings in my profession) would 
vastly add to the agrdmens of my continental ex- 
cursion. 

“Present my love to all my brothers and sisters. 
Ah! how I wish the hard portion of a younger son 
had not been mine, and that I could live without 
the dire necessity for labor, happy among the 
rural scenes of my childhood, and in the society of 
my dear sisters and you! Heaven bless you, dear- 
est father, and all those beloved ones now dwelling 
under the dear old roof at Sizes. 

“Ever your affectionate son, 

“Algernon. 

“The Right Hon. the Earl of Crabs, etc. 

“Sizes Court, Bucks.” 

To this affeckshnat letter his lordship re- 
plied, by return of poast, as folios : 

“My Dear Algernon — Your letter came safe to 
hand, and I enclose the letter for Lord Bobtail as 
6 


84 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


you desire. He is a kind man, and has one of the 
best cooks in Europe. 

“We are all charmed with your warm remem- 
brances of us, not having seen you for seven years. 
We cannot but be pleased at the family affection 
which, in spite of time and absence, still clings so 
fondly to home. It is a sad, selfish world, and very 
few who have entered it can afford to keep those 
fresh feelings which you have, my dear son. 

“May you long retain them, is a fond father’s 
earnest prayer. Be sure, dear Algernon, that they 
will be through life your greatest comfort, as well 
as your best worldly ally; consoling you in misfor- 
tune, cheering you in depression, aiding and in- 
spiring you to exertion and success. 

“I am sorry, truly sorry, that my account at 
Coutts’ is so low, just now, as to render a payment 
of your allowance for the present impossible. I 
see by my book that I owe you now nine quarters, 
or £450. Depend on it, my dear boy, that they shall 
be faithfully paid over to you on the first oppor- 
tunity. 

“By the way, I have enclosed some extracts from 
the newspapers, which may interest you; and have 
received a very strange letter from a Mr. Blewitt, 
about a play transaction, which, I suppose, is the 
case alluded to in these prints. He says you won 
£4,700 from one Dawkins; that the lad paid it; 
that he, Blewitt, was to go what he calls ‘snacks’ 
in the winning; but that you refused to share the 
booty. How can you, my dear boy, quarrel with 
these vulgar people, or lay yourself in any way 
open to their attacks? I have played myself a 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 85 

good deal, and there is no living man who can ac- 
cuse me of a doubtful act. You should either have 
shot this Blewitt or paid him. Now, as the matter 
stands, it is too late to do the former; and, per- 
haps, it would be Quixotic to perform the latter. 
My dearest boy! recollect through life that you 
never can afford to be dishonest with a rogue. Four 
thousand seven hundred pounds was a great coup, 
to be sure. 

“As you are now in such high feather, can you, 
dearest Algernon! lend me five hundred pounds? 
Upon my soul and honor, I will repay you. Your 
brothers and sisters send you their love. I need 
not add, that you have always the blessings of 
your affectionate father. “Crabs. 

“P. S. — Make it 500, and I will give you my note- 
of-hand for a thousand.” 

****** 

I needn’t say that this did not quite enter 
into Deuceace’s eyedears. Lend his father 500 
pound, indeed ! He’d as soon have lent him a 
box on the year! In the fust place, he hadn 
seen old Crabs for seven years, as that noble- 
man remarked in his epistol; in the secknd he 
hated him, and they hated each other ; and nex, 
if master had loved his father ever so much, he 
loved somebody else better — his father’s son, 
namely: and sooner than deprive that exlent 
young man of a penny, he’d have seen all the 
fathers in the world hangin at Newgat, and all 


$6 The Yellowplush Papers. 

the “beloved ones,” as he called his sisters, the 
Lady Deuceacisses, so many convix at Bottomy 
Bay. 

The newspaper parrografs showed that, how- 
ever secret we wished to keep the play trans- 
action, the public knew it now full well. Blew- 
itt, as I found after, was the author of the libels 
which appeared right and left : 

“GAMBLING IN HIGH LIFE.” 

“The Honorable Mr. De — c — ce again! — This cel- 
ebrated whist-player has turned his accomplish- 
ments to some profit. On Friday, the 16th January, 
he won five thousand pounds from a very young 
gentleman, Th — m — s Sm — th D — wk — ns. Esq., 
and lost two thousand five hundred to R. 
B1 — w — tt, Esq., of the T — mple. Mr. D. very hon- 
orably paid the sum lost by him to the honorable 
whist-player, but we have not heard that, before 
his sudden trip to Paris, Mr. D — uc — ce paid his 
losings to Mr. B1 — w — tt.” 

Nex came a “Notice to Corryspondents 

“Fair Play asks us, if we know of the gambling 
doings of the notorious Deuceace? We answer, We 
do; and, in our very next Number, propose to make 
some of them public.” 

* * * * * * 

They didn’t appear, however ; but, on the con- 
try, the very same newspeper, which had been 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceace. 


87 


before so abusiff of Deuceace, was now loud in 
bis praise. It said: 

“A paragraph was inadvertently admitted into' 
our paper of last week, most unjustly assailing the 
character of a gentleman of high birth and tal- 
ents, the son of the exemplary E — rl of Cr — bs. 
We repel, with scorn and indignation, the dastard- 
ly falsehoods of the malignant slanderer who villi- 
fied Mr. De — ce — ce, and beg to offer that gentle- 
man the only reparation in our power for having 
thus tampered with his unsullied name. We dis- 
believe the ruffian i*nd his story, and most sin- 
cerely regret that such a tale, or such a writer, 
should ever have been brought forward to the 
readers of this paper.” 

This was satisfactory, and no mistake; and 
much pleased we were at the denial of this con- 
shentious editor. So much pleased that master 
sent him a ten-pound noat, and his comply- 
mints. He’d sent another to the same address, 
before this parrowgraff was printed; why, I 
can’t think, for I wouldn’t suppose anything 
musnary in a littery man. 

Well, after this bisniss was concluded, the 
currier hired, the carridge smartened a little, 
and me set up in my new li vries, we bade a jew 
to Bulong in the grandest state posbill. What 
a figure we cut ! and, my i, what a figger the pos- 
tillion cut ! A cock-hat, a jackit made out of 


88 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


cow’s skin (it was in cold weather), a pig-tale 
about 3 fit in length, and a pair of boots ! Oh, 
sich a pare! A bishop might almost have 
preached out of one, or a modrat-sized famly 
slep in it. Me and Mr. Schwigshhnaps, the 
currier, sate behind in the rumbill; master 
aloan in the inside, as grand as a Turk, and rapt 
up in his fine fir-cloak. Off we sett, bowing 
gracefly to the crowd ; the harniss-bells jinglin, 
the great white horses snorting, kickin, and 
squeelin, and the postillium cracking his wip, 
as loud as if he’d been drivin her majesty the 
quean. 

****** 

Well, I shan’t describe our voyitch. We 
passed sefral sitties, willitches, and metrappol- 
ishes ; sleeping the fust night at Amiens, witch, 
as everytoddy knows, is famous ever since the 
year 1802 for what’s called the Pease of Amiens. 
We had some, very good, done with sugar and 
brown sos, in the Amiens way. But after all 
the boasting about them, I think I like our mar- 
rowphats better. 

Speaking of wedgytables, another singler ax- 
dent happened here concarning them. Master, 
who was brexfasting before going away, told me 
to go and get him his fur travling-shoes. I 
went and toald the waiter of the inn, who stared, 


The Amours of Mr. Deuceaee. 


89 


grinned (as these chaps always do), said 
“Bong” (which means very well), and present- 
ly came back. 

I’m blest if he didn’t bring master a plate of 
cabbitcli! Would you bleave it, that now, in 
the nineteenth sentry, when they say there’s 
schoolmasters abroad, these stewpid French 
jackasses are so extonishingly ignorant as to 
call a cabbidge a shoo ! Never, never let it be 
said, after this, that these benighted, soupersti- 
tious, misrabble savidges, are equill, in any re- 
spex, to the great British people. The moor I 
travvle, the moor I see of the world, and other 
natiuns ; I am proud of my own, and despise and 
deplore the retchid ignorance of the rest of 
Yourup. 

****** 

My remarks on Parris you shall have by an 
early opportunity. Me and Deuceaee played 
some curious pranx there, I can tell you. 


MR. DEUCEACE AT PaRIS. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE TWO BUNDLES OF HAY. 

Lieutenant-General Sir George Griffin, K. C. 
B., was about seventy-five years old when he left 
this life, and the East Ingine army, of which he 
was a distinguished ornyment. Sir George’s 
first appearance in In jar was in the character of 
a cabbing boy to a vessel, from which ne rose to 
be clerk to the owners at Calcutta, from which 
he became all of a sudden a capting in the com- 
pany’s service; and so rose and rose, until he 
rose to be a leftenant-general, when he stopped 
rising altogether — hopping the twig of this life, 
as drummers, generals, dustmen, and emperors 
must do. 

Sir George did not leave any mal heir to per- 
petuate the name of Griffin. A widow of about 
twenty-seven and a daughter avaritching twen- 
ty-three was left behind to deploar his loss and 
share his propaty. On old Sir George’s deth 
his interesting widdo and orfan, who had both 

90 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


91 


been with him in In jar, returned home, tried 
London for a few months, did not like it and re- 
solved on a trip to Paris, where very small Lon- 
don people become very great ones, if they’ve 
money, as these Griffins had. The intelligent 
reader need not be told that Miss Griffin was 
not the daughter of Lady Griffin; for though 
marritches are made tolrabbly early in Injer, 
people are not quite so precoashoos as all that. 
The fact is Lady G. was Sir George’s second 
wife. I need scarcely add that Miss Matilda 
Griffin wos the offspring of his fust marritch. 

1 Miss Leonora Kicksey, a ansum, lively Isling- 
ton gal, taken out to Calcutta, and, amongst hi3 
other goods, very comfortably disposed of by her 
uncle, Capting Kicksey, was one-and-twenty 
when she married Sir George at seventy-one, 
and the 13 Miss Kickseys, nine of whom kep a 
school at Islington (the other 4 being married 
variously in the city), were not a little envious 
of my lady’s luck, and not a little proud of their 
relationship to her. One of ’em, Miss Jemima 
Kicksey, the oldest, and by no means the least 
ugly of the sett, was staying with her ladyship, 
and gev me all the partecklars. Of the rest of 
the famly, being of a lo sort, I in course no 
nothink ; my acquaintance, thank my stars, 
don’t lie among them, or the likes of them. 


92 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Well, this Miss Jemima lived with her young- 
er and more fortnat sister, in the qualaty of 
companion or toddy. Poar thing ! I’d a soon be 
a gaily slave, as lead the life she did ! Every- 
body in the house despised her ; her ladyship in- 
sulted her; the very kitching gals scorned and 
flouted her. She roat the notes, she kep the 
bills, she made the tea, she whipped the chock- 
late, she cleaned the canary birds, and gev out 
the linning for the wash. She was my lady’s 
walking pocket, or rettycule; and fetched and 
carried her handkercher, or her smell-bottle, 
like a well-bred spaniel. All night, at her lady- 
ship’s swarries, she thumped kidrills (nobody 
ever thought of asking her to dance!) ; when 
Miss Griffing sung, she played the piano, and 
was scolded because the singer was out of tune. 
Abommanating dogs, she never drove out with- 
out her ladyship’s puddle in her lap ; and, reg- 
larly unwell in a carriage, she never got any- 
thing but the back seat. Poar Jemima ! I 
can see her now in my lady’s secknd-best old 
clothes (the ladies’ maids always got the prime 
leavings) ; a liloc satin gown, crumpled, 
blotched and greasy ; a pair of white sattn shoes, 
of the color of Injer rubber; a faded yellow 
velvet hat, with a wreath of hartifishl flowers 
run to sead, and a bird of Parrowdice perched 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


93 


on the top of it, melumcolly and moulting, with 
only a couple of feathers left in his unfortunate 
tail. 

Besides this ornyment to their saloon, Lady 
and Miss Griffin kept a number of other ser- 
vants in the kitching; 2 ladies’ maids, 2 foot- 
min, six feet high each, crimson coats, goold 
knots and white cassymear pantyloons ; a coach- 
min to match ; a page and a Shassure, a kind of 
servant only known among forriners, and who 
looks more like a major-general than any other 
mortial, wearing a cock-hat, a unicorn covered 
with silver lace, mustashos, eplets and a sword 
by his side. All these to wait upon two ladies, 
not counting a host of the fair sex, such as 
cooks, scullion, housekeepers, and so forth. 

My Lady Griffin’s lodging was at forty 
pounds a week, in a grand sweet of rooms in the 
Plas Yandome at Paris. And, having thus de- 
scribed their house, and their servants’ hall, I 
may give a few words of description concerning 
the ladies themselves. 

In the fust place, and in coarse, they hated 
each other. My lady was twenty-seven — a wid- 
do of two years — fat, fair and rosy. A slow, 
quiet, cold-looking woman, as those fair-haired 
gals generally are, it seemed difficult to rouse 
her either into likes or dislikes to the former, 


94 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


at least. She never loved anybody but one , and 
that was herself. She hated, in her calm, quiet 
way, almost every one else who came near her — 
every one, from her neighbor the duke, who had 
slighted her at dinner, down to John the foot- 
man, who had torn a hole in her train. I think 
this woman’s heart was like one of them litho- 
graffic stones, you can't rub out anything when 
once it’s drawn or wrote on it ; nor could you out 
of her ladyship’s stone — heart, I mean — in the 
shape of an affront, a slight, or real or phansied 
injury. She boar an exlent, irreprotchable 
character, against which the tongue of scandal 
never wagged. She was allowed to be the best 
wife posbill — and so she was ; but she killed her 
old husband in two years, as dead as ever Mr. 
Thurtell killed Mr. William Weare. She never 
got into a passion, not she — she never said a 
rude word; but she’d a genius — a genius which 
many women have — of making a hell of a house, 
and tort’ring the poor creatures of her family, 
until they were wellnigh drove mad. 

Miss Matilda Griffin was a good deal uglier, 
and about as amiable as her mother-in-law. She 
was crooked and squinted; my lady, to do her 
justice, was straight, and looked the same way 
with her i’s. She was dark, and my lady was 
fair — sentimental, as her ladyship was cold. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


95 


My lady was never in a passion — Miss Matilda 
always; and awfille were the scenes which used 
to pass between these 2 women, and the wickid, 
wickid quarls which took place. Why did they 
live together? There was the mistry. Not re- 
lated, and hating each other like pison, it would 
surely have been easier to remain seprat, and so 
have detested each other at a distans. 

As for the fortune which old Sir George had 
left, that, it was clear, was very considerable — 
300 thousand lb. at least, as I have heard say. 
But nobody knew how it was disposed of. Some 
said that her ladyship was sole mistress of it, 
others that it was divided, others that she had 
only a life inkum, and that the money was all to 
go (as was natral) to Miss Matilda. These are 
subjix which are not praps very interesting to 
the British public, but were mighty important 
to my master, the Honrable Algernon Percy 
Deuceace, esquire, barrister-at-law, etsettler, et- 
settler. 

For I’ve forgot to inform you that my master 
was very intimat in this house, and that we 
were now comfortably settled at the Hotel Mira- 
bew (pronounced Marobo in French), in the 
Bew delly Pay, at Paris. We had our cab and 
two riding horses; our banker’s book' and a 
thousand pound for a balantz at Lafitt’s; our 


96 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


club at the corner of the Rew Gramong; our 
share in a box at the oppras; our apartments, 
spacious and elygant; our swarries at court; 
our dinners at his excellency Lord Bobtail’s and 
elsewhere. Thank to poar Dawkins’s five thou- 
sand pound, we were as complete gentlemen as 
any in Paris. 

Now my master, like a wise man as he was, 
seaing himself at the head of a smart sum of 
money, and in a country where his debts could 
not bother him, determined to give up for the 
present everythink like gambling — at least, 
high play; as for losing or winning a ralow of 
Napoleums at whist or ecarty, it did not matter. 
It looks like money to do such things, and gives 
a kind of respectability. a But as for play, he 
wouldn’t — oh no ! not for worlds ! — do such a 
thing.” He had played, like other young men 
of fashn, and won and lost [old fox ! he didn’t 
say he had paid\ ; but he had given up the 
amusement, and was now determined, he said, 
to live on his inkum. The fact is, my master 
was doing his very best to act the respectable 
man, and a very good game it is too ; but it re- 
quires a precious great roag to play it. 

He made his appearans reglar at church — me 
carrying a handsome large black m a rockv Pray- 
er-book and Bible, with the psalms and lessons 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


97 


marked out with red ribbings; and you’d have 
thought, as I graivly laid the volloms down be- 
fore him, and as he berried his head in his nice- 
ly brushed hat, before service began, that such a 
pious, proper, morl young nobleman was not to 
be found in the whole of the peeridge. It was 
a comfort to look at him. Efry old tabby and 
dowyger at my Lord Bobtail’s turned up the 
wights of their i’s when they spoke of him, and 
vowed they had never seen such a dear, dalite- 
ful, exlent young man. What a good son he 
must be, they said ; and oh, what a good son-in- 
law ! He had the pick of all the English gals 
at Paris before we had been there 3 months. 
But, unfortunately, most of them were poar; 
and love and a cottidge was not quite in mas- 
ter’s way of thinking. 

Well, about this time my Lady Griffin and 
Miss G. made their appearants at Paris, and 
master, who was up to snough, very soon 
changed his noat. He sate near them at chap- 
pie, and sung hims with my lady. He danced 
with ’em at the embassy balls; he road with 
them in the Boy de Balong and the Shande- 
leasies (which is the French High Park) ; he 
roat potry in Miss Griffin’s halbim, and sang 
jewets along with her and Lady Griffin; he 
brought sweetmeats for the puddle dog; he 


98 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


gave money to the footmin, kissis and gloves to 
the sniggering ladies’ maids ; he was sivvle even 
to poar Miss Kicksey ; there wasn’t a single soal 
at the Griffinses that didn’t adoar this good 
vonng man. 

The ladies, if they hated befoar, you may be 
sure detested each other now wuss than ever. 
There had been always a jallowsy between 
them; miss jellows of her mother-in-law’s bew- 
ty; madam of miss’s espree; miss taunting my 
lady about the school at Islington, and my lady 
snearing at miss for her squint and her crookid 
back. And now came a stronger caws. They 
both fell in love with Mr. Deuceace — my lady, 
that is to say, as much as she could, with her 
cold selfish temper. She liked Deuceace, who 
amused her and made her laff. She liked his 
manners, his riding and his good loox; and 
being a pervinew herself had a dubble respect 
for real aristocratick flesh and blood. Miss’s 
love, on the contry, was all flams and fury. 
She’d always been at this work from the time 
she had been at school, where she very nigh run 
away with a Frentch master; next with a foot- 
man (which I may say, in confidence, is by no 
means unnatral or unusyouall, as I could show 
if I liked ) ; and so had ‘been going on sins fif- 
teen. She reglarly flung herself at Deuceace’s 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


99 


head — such sighing, crying and ogling I never 
see. Often was I ready to bust out laffin, as 1 
brought master skoars of rose-colored billy- 
doos, folded up like cockhats, and smellin like 
barber’s shops, which this very tender young 
lady used to address to him. Now, though 
master was a scoundrill and no mistake, he was 
a gentlemin and a man of good breading; and 
miss came a little too strong (pardon the wul- 
garity of the xpression) with her hardor and at- 
tachmint, for one of his taste. Besides, she had 
a crookid spine and a. squint, so that (supposing 
their fortns tolrabbly equal). Deuceace reely 
preferred the mother-in-law. 

Now, then, it was his bisniss to find out which 
had the most money. With an English famly 
this would have been easy. A look at a will at 
Doctor Commons’es would settle the matter at 
once. But this India naybob’s will was at Cal- 
cutty, or some outlandish place, and there was 
no getting sight of a coppy of it. I will do Mr. 
Algernon Deuceace the justass to say that he 
was so little musnary in his love for Lady Grif- 
fin that he would have married her gladly, even 
if she had ten thousand pounds less than Miss 
Matilda. 

In the meantime his plan was to keep ’em 
both in play until he could strike the best fish 
7 


100 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


of the two — not a difficult matter for a man 
of his genius. Besides, Miss was hooked for 
certain. 


CHAPTEE II. 

"honor thy father." 

I said that my master was adoared by every 
person in my Lady Griffin’s establishment. I 
should have said by every person excep one — a 
young French gnlmn, that is, who, before our 
appearants, had been mighty partiklar with my 
lady, ockupying by her side exackly the same 
position which the Honrable Mr. Deuceace now 
held. It was bewtiffle and headifying to see 
how coolly that young nobleman kicked the poar 
Shevalliay de L’Orge out of his shoes, and how 
gracefully he himself stept into ’em. Munseer 
de L’Orge was a smart young French jentleman, 
of about my master’s age and good looks, but 
not possest of half my master’s impidence. Not 
that that quallaty is uncommon in France ; but 
few, very few, had it to such a degree as my 
exlent employer, Mr. Deuceace. Besides De 
L’Ofge was reglarly and reely in love with Lady 
Griffin, and master only pretending. He had, 


Mr. Deuceaee at Paris. 


101 


of coars, an advantitch, which the poor French- 
man never could git. He was all smiles and 
gaty, while Delorge was ockward and melum- 
colly. My master had said twenty pretty things 
to Lady Griffin befor the shevalier had finished 
smoothing his hat, staring at her and sighing 
fit to bust his weskit. 0, luv, luv ! This isn’t 
the way to win a woman, or my name’s not Fitz- 
roy Yellowplush ! Myself, when I begun my 
carear among the fair sex, I was always sighing 
and moping, like this poar Frenchman. What 
was the consquints ? The f oar fust women ' I 
adoared lafft at me and left me for something 
more lively. With the rest I have adopted a 
diffrent game, and with tolerable suxes, I can 
tell you. But this is eggatism, which I aboar. 

Well, the long and short of it is, that Mun- 
seer Ferdinand Hypolite Xavier Stanislaus, 
Shevalier de L’Orge was reglar cut out by Mum 
seer Algernon Percy Deuceaee, Exquire. Poar 
Ferdinand did not leave the house — he hadn’t 
the heart to do that — nor had my lady the de- 
sire to dismiss him. He was usefle in a thou- 
sand different ways, gitting oppra-boxes and in- 
vitations to French swarries, hying gloves, and 
0 de Colong, writing French noats, and such 
like. Always let me recommend an English 
famly, going to Paris, to have at least one young 


102 The Yellowplush Papers. 

man of the sort about them. Never mind how 
old your ladyship is, he will make love to you; 
never mind what errints you send him upon, 
he’ll trot off and do them. Besides, he’s always 
quite and well-dresst, and never drinx moar 
than a pint of wine at dinner, which (as I say) 
is a pint to consider. Such a conveniants of a 
man was Munseer de L’Orge — the greatest use 
and comfort to my lady posbill ; if it was hut to 
laff at his bad pronuncitium of English, it was 
somethink amusink; the fun was to pit him 
against poar Miss Kicksey, she speakin French 
and he our naytif British tong. 

My master, to do him justace, was perfickly 
sivvle to this poar young Frenchman ; and hav- 
ing kicked him out of the place which he occu- 
pied, sertingly treated his fallen anymy with 
every respect and consideration. Poar modist 
down-hearted little Ferdinand adoared my lady 
as a goddice ! and so he was very polite, likewise, 
to my master — never venturing once to be jel- 
lows of him, or to question my Lady Griffin’s 
right to change her lover, if she choase to do so. 

Thus, then, matters stood; master had two 
strinx to his bo, and might take either the wid- 
do or the orfn, as he preferred ; com bong Iwee 
somblay, as the French say. His only pint was 
to discover how the money was disposed off. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 103 

which evidently belonged to one or other, or 
boath. At any rate he was sure of one, as sure 
as any mortal man can be in this sublimary 
spear, where nothink is suttin except unsertnty. 
****** 

A very uninxpected insident here took place, 
which in a good deal changed my master’s cal- 
kylations. 

One night, after conducting the two ladies to 
the oppra, after suppink of white soop, sammy- 
deperdrow and shampang glassy (which means 
eyced), at their house in the Plas Vandom, me 
and master droav hoam in the cab, as happy as 
possbill. 

"Chawls, you d — d scoundrel,” says he to me 
(for he was in an exlent humer), "when I’m 
married, I’ll dubbil your wagis.” 

This he might do, to be sure, without injar- 
ing himself, seing that he had as yet never paid 
me any. But, what then T Law bless us ! 
Things would be at a pretty pass if we suvvants 
{ only lived on our wagis ; our puckwisists is the 
thing, and no mistake. 

I ixprest my gratitude as best I could ; swoar 
that it wasn’t for wagis I served him — that I 
would as leaf weight upon him for nothink, and 
that never, never, so long as I livd, would I, of 
my own accord, part from such an exlent mas- 


104 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


ter. By the time these two spitches had been 
made — my spitch and his — we arrived at the 
“Hotel Mirabeu,” which, as everybody knows, 
ain’t very distant from the Plas Yandome. Up 
we marched to our apartmince, me carrying the 
light and the cloax, master hummink a hair out 
o* the oppra, as merry as a lark. 

I opened the door of our salong. There was 
lights already in the room, an empty shampang 
bottle roalin on the Hoar, another on the table, 
near which the sofy was drawn, and on it lay a 
stout old genlmn, smoaking seagars as if he’d 
bean in an inn tap-room. 

Deuceace (who abommanates seagars, as I’ve 
already shown), bust into a furious raige 
against the genlmn, whom he could hardly see 
for the smoak, and, with a number of oaves 
quite unneccessary to repeat, asked him what 
bisniss he’d there. 

The smoaking chap rose, and, laying down his 
seagar, began a ror of laffin and said: “What, 
Algy, my boy ! don’t you know me ?” 

The reader may praps recklect a very affect- 
ing letter which was published in the last chap- 
ter of these memoars, in which the writer re- 
quested a loan of five hundred pound from Mr. 
Algernon Deuceace, and which boar the respect- 
ed signatur of the Earl of Crabs, Mr. Deuce- 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


105 


ace’s own father. It was that distinguished 
arastycrat who was now smokin and laffin in our 
room. 

My Lord Crabs was, as I preshumed, about 
60 year old. A stowt, burly, red faced, bald- 
headed nobleman, whose nose seemed blushing 
at what his mouth was continually swallowing; 
whose hand, praps, trembeld a little, and whose 
thy and legg was not quite so full or as steddy 
as they had been in former days. But he was 
a respecktabble, fine-looking, old nobleman, and 
though it must be contest ^ drunk when we fust 
made our appearance in the salong, yet by no 
means moor so than a reel noblemin ought to be. 

“What, Algy, my boy!” shouts out his lord- 
ship, advancing and seasing master by the hand, 
“doan’t you know your own father ?” 

Master seemed anythink but overhappy. “My 
lord,” says he, looking very pail, and speakin 
rayther slow, “I didn’t— I confess — the unex- 
pected pleasure — of seeing you in Paris. The 
fact is, sir,” said he, recovering himself a little ; 
“the fact is, there was such a confounded smoke 
of tobacco in the room that I really could not 
see who the stranger was who had paid me such 
an unexpected visit.” 

“A bad habit, Algernon, a bad habit,” said 
my lord, lighting another seagar; “a disgusting 


10G The Yellowplush Papers. 

and filthy practice, which you, my dear child, 
will do well to avoid. It is at best, dear Alger- 
non, but a nasty, idle pastime, unfitting a man 
as well for mental exertion as for respectable 
society; sacrificing at once the vigor of the in- 
tellect and the graces of the person. By the 
bye, what infernal bad tobacco they have, too, 
in this hotel. Could not you send your servant 
to get me a few seagars at the Caf6 de Paris? 
Give him a five-franc piece, and let him go at 
once ; that’s a good fellow.” 

Here his lordship hiccupt and drank off a 
fresh tumbler of shampang. Very sulkily, 
master drew out the coin and sent me on the 
errint. 

Knowing the Caf6 de Paris to be shut at that 
hour, I didn’t say a word, but quietly establisht 
myself in the anteroom; where, as it happened 
by a singlar coinsidints, I could hear every word 
of the conversation between this exlent pair of 
relatifs. 

"Help yourself and get another bottle,” says 
my lord, after a solium paws. My poar master, 
the king of all other compnies in which he 
moved, seamed here but to play seckond fiddill, 
and went to the cubbard, from which his father 
had already igstracted two bottils of his prime 
Sillary. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


107 


He put it down before his father, coft, spit, 
opened the windows, stirred the fire, yawned, 
clapt his hand to his forehead and suttnly 
seamed as uneezy as a genlmn could be. But it 
was of no use; the old one would not budg. 
“Help yourself/’ says he again, “and pass me 
the bottil.” 

“You are very good, father,” says master: 
“but really, I neither drink nor smoke.” 

“Right, my boy, quite right. Talk about a 
good conscience in this life — a good stomach is 
everythink. Ho bad nights, no headachs — eh? 
Quite cool and collected for your law studies in 
the morning? — eh?” And the old nobleman 
here grinned in a manner which would have 
done credit to Mr. Grimoldi. 

Master sate pale and wincing, as I’ve seen a 
pore soldier under the cat. He didn’t anser a 
word.' His exlent pa went on, warming as he 
continued to speak and drinking a fresh glas at 
evry full stop. 

“How you must improve, with such talents 
and such principles ! Why, Algernon, all Lorn 
don talks of j^our industry and perseverance. 
Your not merely a philosopher, man; hang it! 
you’ve got the philosopher’s stone. Fine rooms, 
fine horses, champagne, and all for 200 a year !” 

“I presume, sir,” says my master, “that you 


108 The Yellowplush Papers. 

mean the two hundred a year which you pay 
me?” 

“The very sum, my boy, the very sum !” cries 
my lord, laffin as if he would die. “Why, that’s 
the wonder ! I never pay the two hundred a 
year, and you keep all this state up upon noth- 
ing. Give me your secret, 0 you young Tris- 
megistus ! Tell your old father how such won- 
ders can be worked, and I will — yes, then, upon 
my word, I will — pay you your two hundred a 
year !” 

“ Enfin , my lord,” says Mr. Deuceace, starting 
up and losing all patience, “will you have the 
goodness to tell me what this visit means? You 
leave me to starve, for all you care, and you 
grow mighty facetious because I earn my bread. 
You find me in prosperity and ” 

“Precisely, my boy, precisely. Keep your 
temper, and pass that bottle. I find you in 
prosperity, and a young gentleman of your 
genius and acquirements asks me why I seek 
your society ? Oh, Algernon ! Algernon ! this is 
not worthy of such a profound philosopher. 
Why do I seek you? Why, because you are in 
prosperity, O my son ! else, why the devil 
should I bother myself about you? Did I, your 
poor mother, or your family, ever get from you 
a single affectionate feeling? Did we, or an)’ 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


109 


other of your friends or intimates, ever know 
you to be guilty of a single honest or generous 
action? Did we ever pretend any love for you, 
or you for us? Algernon Deuceace, you don’t 
want a father to tell you that you are a swind- 
ler and a spendthrift ! I have paid thousands 
for the debts of yourself and your brothers; 
and, if you pay nobody else, I am determined 
you shall repay me. You would not do it by 
fair means, when I wrote to you and asked you 
for a loan of money. I knew you would not. 
Had I written again to warn you of my com- 
ing, you would have given me the slip ; and so I 
came, uninvited, to force you to repay me. 
That's why I am here, Mr. Algernon; and so 
help yourself and pass the bottle.” 

After this speach, the old genlmn sunk down 
on the sofa, and puffed as much smoke out of 
his mouth as if he’d been the chimley of a 
steam-in jian. I was pleased, I confess, with 
the sean, and liked to see this venrabble and 
virtuous old man a-nocking his son about the 
hed; just as Deuceace had done with Mr. Rich- 
ard Blewitt, as I’ve before shown. Master’s 
face was, fust, red-hot; next, chawk-white; and 
then, sky-blew. He looked, for all the world, 
like Mr. Tippy Cooke in the tragedy of Frank- 
ing stang. At last, he mannidged to speek. 


110 The Yellowplush Papers. 

“My lord,” says he, “I expected when I saw 
you that some such scheme was on foot. Swind- 
1 ler and spendthrift as I am, at least it is but 
a family failing; and I am indebted for my 
virtues to my father’s precious example. Your 
lordship has, I perceive, added drunkenness to 
the list of your accomplishments; and, I sup- 
pose, under the influence of that gentlemanly 
excitement, you have come to make these pre- 
posterous propositions to me. When you are 
sober, you will, perhaps, be wise enough to 
know, that, fool as I may be, I am not such a 
fool as you think me; and that if I have got 
money, I intend to keep it — every farthing 
of it, though you were to be ten times as 
drunk, and ten times as threatening as you are 
now.” 

“Well, well, my boy,” said Lord Crabs, who 
seemed to have been half-asleep during his 
son’s oratium, and received all his sneers and 
surcasms with the most complete good-humor; 
“well, well, if you will resist, tant pis pour toi. 
I’ve no desire to ruin you, recollect, and am not 
in the slightest degree angry; but I must and 
will have a thousand pounds. You had better 
give me the money at once; it will cost you 
more if you don’t.” 

“Sir,” says Mr. Deuceace, “I will be equally 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


Ill 


candid. I would not give you a farthing to save 
you from ” 

Here I thought proper to open the doar, and, 
touching my hat, said, “I have been to the Cafd 
de Paris, my lord, but the house is shut.” 

“Bon: there’s a good lad; you may keep the 
five francs. And now, get me a candle and 
show me downstairs.” 

But my master seized the wax taper. “Par- 
don me, my lord,” says he. “What ! a servant 
do it, when your son is in the room? Ah, 'par 
exemple , my dear father,” said he, laughing, 
“you think there is no politeness left among 
us.” And he led the way out. 

“Good night, my deaf boy,” said Lord Crabs. 

“God bless you, sir,” says he. “Are you 
wrapped warm ? Mind the step !” 

And so this affeckshnate pair parted. 


CHAPTER III. 

MINEWVRING. 

Master rose the nex morning with a dismal 
countinants — he seamed to think that his pa’s 
visit boded him no good. I heard him mut- 
tering at his brexfast, and fumbling among his 


112 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


hundred pound notes ; once he had laid a parsle 
of them aside (I knew what he meant), to 
send ’em to his father. “But no/’ says he at 
last, clutching them all up together again, and 
throwing them into his escritaw, “what harm 
can he do me? If he is a knave, I know an- 
other who’s full as sharp. Let’s see if we can- 
not beat him at his own weapons.” With that 
Mr. Deuceace drest himself in his best clothes, 
and marched off to the Plas Yandom, to pay 
his cort to the fair widdo and the intresting 
orfin. 

It was abowt ten o’clock, and he propoased to 
the ladies, on seeing them, a number of planns 
for the day’s rackryation. Riding in the Body 
Balong, going to the Twillaries to see King 
Looy Disweet (who was then the raining suf- 
ferin of the French crownd), go to chappie, 
and, finely, a dinner at 5 o’clock at the Caffy de 
Parry; whents they were all to adjourn, to see 
a new peace at the theatre of the Pot St. Mar- 
tin, called Sussannar and the Elders. 

The gals agread to everythink, except the two 
last prepositiums. “We have an engagement, 
my dear Mr. Algernon,” said my lady. “Look 
— a very kind letter from Lady Bobtail.” And 
she handed over a pafewmd noat from that ex- 
olted lady. It ran thus: 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


113 


“Fbg. St. Honore, Thursday, Feb. 15, 1817. 

“My Dear Lady Griffin — It is an age since we 
met. Harassing public duties occupy so much 
myself and Lord Bobtail, that we have scarce time 
to see our private friends; among whom, I hope, 
my dear Lady Griffin will allow me to rank her. 
Will you excuse so very unceremonious an invita- 
tion, and dine with us at the embassy to-day? We 
shall be en petite comitd, and shall have the pleas- 
ure of hearing, I hope, some of your charming 
daughter’s singing in the evening. I ought, per- 
haps, to have addressed a separate note to dear 
Miss Griffin; but I hope she will pardon a poor 
diplomate, who has so many letters to write, you 
know. 

“Farewell till seven, when I positively must see 
you both. Ever, dearest Lady Griffin, your affec- 
tionate Eliza Bobtail.” 

Such a letter from the ambassdriss, brot by 
the ambasdor’s Shassure, and sealed with his 
seal of arms, would affect anybody in the mid- 
dling ranx of life. It droav Lady Griffin mad 
with delight; and, long before my -master’s ar- 
rivle, she’d sent Mortimer and Fitzclarence, 
her two footmin, along with a polite reply in 
the affummatiff. 

Master read the noat with no such fealinx 
of joy. He felt that there was somethink a-go- 
ing on behind the seans, and, though he could 
not tell how, was sure that some danger was 


114 The Yellowplush Papers. 

near him. That old fox of a father of his had 
begun his MTnations pretty early ! 

Deuceace handed back the letter; sneared, 
and poohd, and hinted that such an invitation 
was an insult at best (what he called a pees 
ally ) ; and, the ladies might depend upon it, 
was only sent because Lady Bobtail wanted to 
fill up two spare places at her table. But Lady 
Griffin and Miss would not have his insinwa- 
tions ; they knew too f u lords ever to refuse an 
invitatium from any one of them. Go they 
would; and poor Deuceace must dine alone. 
After they had been on their ride, and had had 
their other amusemince, master came back with 
them, chatted, and laft; he was mighty sar- 
kastix with my lady; tender and sentrymentle 
with Miss; and left them both in high sperrits 
to perform their twollet, before dinner. 

As I came to the door (for I was as famillyer 
as a servant of the house), as I came into the 
drawing-room to announts his cab, I saw mas- 
ter very quietly taking his pocket-book (or 
pot fool , as the French call it) and thrusting 
it under one of the cushinx of the sofa. What 
game is this ? thinx I. 

Why, this was the game. In about two 
howrs, when he knew the ladies were gon, he 
pretends to be vastly anxious abowt the loss 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


115 


of his potfolio; and back he goes to Lady Grif- 
finses to seek for it there. 

“Pray,” says he, on going in, “ask Miss Kick- 
sey if I may see her for a single moment.” And 
down comes Miss Ivicksey, quite smiling, and 
happy to see him. 

“Law, Mr. Deuceace!” says she, trying to 
blush as hard as ever she could, “you quite sur- 
prise me ! I don’t know whether I ought, 
really, being alone, to admit a gentleman.” 

“Nay, don’t say so, dear Miss Kicksey! for 
do you know, I came here for a double purpose 
— to ask about a pocket-book which I have lost, 
and may, perhaps, have left here; and then, to 
ask you if you will have the great goodness to 
pity a solitary bachelor, and give him a cup of 
your nice tea ?” 

Nice tea! I thot I should have split; for I’m 
blest if master had eaten a morsel of dinner ! 

Never mind : down to tea they sat. “Do you 
take cream and sugar, dear sir?” says poar 
Kicksey, with a voice as tender as a tuttle-duff. 

“Both, dearest Miss Kicksey!” answers mas- 
ter; who stowed in a power of sashong and 
muffinx which would have done honor to a 
washawoman. 

I shan’t describe the conversation that took 

place betwigst master and this young lady. The 
8 


116 The Yellowplush Papers. 

reader, praps, knows y Deuceace took the trou- 
ble to talk to her for an hour, and to swallow 
all her tea. He wanted to find out from her 
all she knew about the famly money matters, 
and settle at once which of the two Griffinses he 
should marry. 

The poar thing, of cors, was no match for 
such a man as my master. In a quarter of an 
hour, he had, if I may use the igspression, 
“turned her inside out/’ He knew everything 
that she knew ; and that, poar creature, was very 
little. There was nine thousand a year, she 
had heard say, in money, in houses, in banks 
in Injar, and what not. Boath the ladies signed 
papers for selling or buying, and the money 
seemed equilly divided betwigst them. 

Nine thousand a year! Deuceace went away, 
his cheex tingling, his heart beating. He, with- 
out a penny, could nex morning, if he liked, be 
master of five thousand per hannum! 

Yes. But how? Which had the money, the 
mother or the daughter? All the tea-drinking 
had not taught him this piece of nollidge; and 
Deuceace thought it a pity that he could not 
marry both. 

****** 

The ladies came back at night, mightaly 
pleased with their reception at the ambasdor’s ; 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


117 


and, stepping out of their carridge, bid coach- 
min drive on with a gentlemin who had handed 
them out — a stout old gentlemin, who shook 
hands most tenderly at parting, and promised 
to call often upon my Lady Griffin. He was so 
polite, that he wanted to mount the stairs with 
her ladyship; but no, she would not suffer it. 
“Edward,” says she to the coachmin, quite 
loud, and pleased that all the people in the 
hotel should hear her, “you will take the car- 
riage, and drive his lordship home.” Now, can 
you guess who his lordship was? The Right 
Hon. the Earl of Crabs, to be sure; the very 
old genlmn whom I had seen on such charming 
terms with his son the day before. Master 
knew this the nex day, and began to think he 
had been a fool to deny his pa the thousand 
pound. 

Now, though the suckmstansies of the dinner 
at the ambasdor’s only came to my years some 
time after, I may as well relate ’em here, word 
for word, as they was told me by the very 
’genlmn who waited behind Lord Crabseses 
chair. 

There was only a “petty comity ” at dinner, 
as Lady Bobtail said; and my Lord Crabs wa9 
placed betwigst the two Griffinses, being mighty 
ellgant and palite to both. “Allow me,” says he 


118 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


to Lady G. (between the soop and the fish ) 4 
“my dear madam, to thank you — fervently 
thank you for your goodness to my poor boy. 
Your ladyship is too young to experience, but, 
I am sure, far too tender not to understand the 
gratitude which must fill a fond parent’s heart 
for kindness shown to his child. Believe me,*’ 
says my lord, looking her full and tenderly in 
the face, “that the favors you have done to 
another have been done equally to myself, and 
awaken in my bosom the same grateful and af- 
fectionate feelings with which you have already 
inspired my son Algernon.” 

Lady Griffin blusht, and droopt her head till 
her ringlets fell into her fish-plate: and she 
swallowed Lord Crab’s flumry just as she would 
so many musharuins. My lord (whose powers 
of slack- jaw was notoarious) nex addrast an- 
other spitch to Miss Griffin. He said he’d 
heard how Deuceace was situated. Miss blusht 
— what a happy dog he was — Miss blusht crim- 
son, and then he sighed deeply, and began eat- 
ing his turbat and lobster sos. Master was a 
good un at flumry, but, law bless you ! he was 
no moar equill to the old man than a molehill 
is to a mounting. Before the night was over, 
he had made as much progress as another man 
would in a ear. One almost forgot his red 



( 119 ) 










Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


121 


nose and his big stomick, and his wicked leer- 
ing i’s, in his gentle insiniwating woice, his 
fund of annygoats, and, above all, the bewtifle, 
morl, religious, and honrabble toan of his gen- 
ial conversation. Praps you will say that these 
ladies were, for such rich pipple, mightalv 
esaly captivated ; but recklect, my dear sir, that 
they were fresh from In jar — that they’d not 
sean many lords — that they adoared the peer- 
idge, as every honest woman does in England 
who has proper feelinx, and has read the fash- 
nabble novvles — and that here at Paris was 
their fust step into fashnabble sosiaty. 

Well, after dinner, while Miss Matilda was 
singing “Die tantie” or “Dip your chair ” or 
some of them sellabrated Italyian hairs (when 
she began this squall, hang me if she’d ever 
stop), my lord gets hold of Lady Griffin again, 
and gradgaly begins to talk to her in a very dif- 
ferent strane. 

“What a blessing it is for us all,” says he, 
“that Algernon has found a friend so respect- 
able as your ladyship.” 

“Indeed, my lord; and why? I suppose I 
am not the only respectable friend that Mr. 
Deuceace has?” 

“No, surely; not the only one he has had; his 
birth, and, permit me to say, his relationship to 


122 The Yellowplush Papers. 

myself, have procured him many. But * 

(here my lord heaved a very affecting and large 
sigh). 

“But what?” says my lady, laffing at the 
igspression of his dismal face. “You don’t 
mean that Mr. Deuceace has lost them or is un- 
worthy of them ?” 

“I trust not, my dear madam, I trust not; 
but he is wild, thoughtless, extravagant, and 
embarrassed : and you know a man under these 
circumstances is not very particular as to his 
associates.” 

“Embarrassed ? Good heavens ! He says he 
has two thousand a year left him by a god- 
mother; and he does not seem even to spend 
his income — a very handsome independence, 
too, for a bachelor.” 

My lord nodded his head sadly, and said, 
“Will your ladyship give me your word of 
honor to be secret ? My son has but a thousand 
a year, which I allow him, and is heavily in 
debt. He has played, madam, I fear; and for 
this reason I am so glad to hear that he is in a 
respectable domestic circle, where he may learn, 
in the presence of far greater and purer at- 
tractions, to forget the dice-box and the low 
companv which has been his bane.” 

My Lady Griffin looked very grave indeed. 


Mr. Deuceaee at Paris. 


123 


Was it true? Was Deuceaee sincere in his pro- 
fessions of love, or was he only a sharper woo- 
ing her for her money? Could she doubt her 
informer? his own father, and, what’s more, a 
real flesh and blood pear of parlyment? She 
determined she would try him. Praps she did 
not know she had liked Deuceaee so much, until 
she kem to feel how much she should hate him 
if she found he’d been playing her false. 

The evening was over, and back they came, 
as wee’ve seen — my lord driving home in my 
lady’s carridge, her ladyship and Miss walking 
upstairs to their own apartmince. 

Here, for a wonder, was poar Miss Kicksey 
quite happy and smiling, and evidently full of 
a secret — something mighty pleasant, to judge 
from her loox. She did not long keep it. As 
she was making tea for the ladies (for in that 
house they took a cup regular before bedtime), 
“Well, my lady,” says she, “who do you think 
has been to drink tea with me?” Poar thing, 
a frendly face was an event in her life — a tea- 
party quite a hera ! 

“Why, perhaps, Lenoir my maid,” says my 
lady, looking grave. “I wish, Miss Kicksey, 
you would not demean yourself by mixing with 
my domestics. Recollect, madam, that you arc 
sister to Lady Griffin.” 


124 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


“No, my lady, it was not Lenoir; it was a 
gentleman, and a handsome gentleman, too.” 

“Oh, it was Monsieur de TOrge, then,” says 
Miss; “he promised to bring me some guitar- 
strings.” 

“No, nor yet M. de l’Orge. He came, but 
was not so polite as to ask for me. What do 
you think of your own beau, the Honorable Mr. 
Algernon Deuceace ;” and, so saying, poar 
Kicksey clapped her hands together and looked 
as joyfle as if she’d come into a fortin. 

“Mr. Deuceace here; and why, pray?” says 
my lady, who recklected all that his exlent pa 
had been saying to her. 

“Why, in the first place, he had left his pock- 
et-book, and in the second, he wanted, he said, 
a dish of my nice tea ; which he took, and stayed 
with me an hour, or moar.” 

“And pray, Miss Kicksey,” said Miss Matil- 
da, quite contempshusly, “what may have been 
the subject of your conversation with Mr. Al- 
gernon? Did you talk politics, or music, or 
fine arts, or metaphysics? Miss M. being what 
was called a blue (as most hump-backed women 
in sosiaty are), always made a pint to speak on 
these grand subjects. 

“No, indeed; he talked of no such awful 
matters. If he had, you know, Matilda, I 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


125 


should never have understood him. First we 
talked about the weather, next about muffins 
and crumpets. Crumpets, he said, he liked 
best; and then we talked” (here Miss Kick- 
sey’s voice fell) “about poor dear Sir George in 
heaven ! what a good husband he was, and ” 

“What a good fortune he left — eh, Miss 
Kicksey?” says my lady, with a hard, snearing 
voice, and a diabollicle grin. 

“Yes, dear Leonora, he spoke so respectfully 
of your blessed husband, and seemed so anxious 
about you and Matilda, it was quite charming 
to hear him, dear man !” 

“And pray, Miss Kicksey, what did you tell 
him?” 

“Oh, I told him that you and Leonora had 
nine thousand a year, and ” 

“What then?” 

“Why, nothing; that is all I know. I am 
sure I wish I had ninety,” says poor Kicksey, 
her eyes turning to heaven. 

“Ninety fiddlesticks ! Did not Mr. Deuce- 
ace ask how the money was left, and to which 
of us?” 

“Yes; but I could not tell him.” 

“I knew it!” says my lady, slapping down 
her tea-cup — “I knew it !” 

“Well!” says Miss Matilda, “and why not, 


126 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Lady Griffin? There is no reason you should 
break your tea-cup, because Algernon asks a 
harmless question. He is not mercenary; he is 
all candor, innocence, generosity! He is him- 
self blessed with a sufficient portion of the 
world’s goods to be content; and often and 
often has he told me he hoped the woman of 
his choice might come to him without a penny, 
that he might show the purity of his affection.” 

“I’ve no doubt,” says my lady. “Perhaps the 
lady of his choice is Miss Matilda Griffin !” and 
she flung out of the room, slamming the door, 
and leaving Miss Matilda to bust into tears, as 
was her reglar custom, and pour her loves and 
woas into the buzzom of Miss Kicksey. 


CHAPTER IV. 

“hitting the nale on the hedd.” 

The nex morning, down came me and master 
to Lady Griffinses — I amusing myself with the 
gals in the antyroom, he paying his devours to 
the ladies in the salong. Miss was thrumming 
on her gitter; my lady was before a great box 
of papers, busy with accounts, bankers’ books, 


Mr. Deuceace at' Paris. 


127 


lawyers’ letters, and what not. Law bless us ! 
it’s a kind of bisniss I should like well enuff; 
especially when my hannual account was seven 
or eight thousand on the right side, like my 
lady’s. My lady in this house kep all these 
matters to herself. Miss was a vast deal too 
sentrimentle to mind business. 

Miss Matilda’s eyes sparkled as master came 
in; she pinted gracefully to a place on the sofv 
beside her, which Deuceace took. My lady only 
looked up for a moment, smiled very kindly, 
and down went her head among the papers agen 
as busy as a B. 

“Lady Griffin has had letters from London,” 
says Miss, “from nasty lawyers and people. 
Come here and sit by me, you naughty man 
you !” 

And down sat master. “Willingly,” says he, 
“my dear Miss Griffin; why, I declare, it is 
quite a tete-a-tete.” 

“Well,” says Miss (after the prillimnary 
flumries, in coarse), “we met a friend of yours 
at the embassy, Mr. Deuceace.” 

“My father, doubtless; he is a great friend 
of the ambassador, and surprised me myself by 
a visit the night before last.” 

“What a dear, delightful old man ! how he 
loves you, Mr. Deuceace !” 


# 


128 The Yellowplush Papers. 

“Oh, amazingly !” says master, throwing his 
i’s to heaven. 

“He spoke of nothing but you, and such 
praises of you !” 

Master breathed more freely. “He is very 
good, my dear father; but blind, as all fathers 
are, he is so partial and attached to me.” 

“He spoke of you being his favorite child, 
and regretted that you were not his eldest son. 
‘I can but leave him the small portion of a 
younger brother/ he said; Tut never mind, he 
has talents, a noble name, and an independence 
of his own.’ ” 

“An independence? yes, oh, yes; I am quite 
independent of my father.” 

“Two thousand pounds a year left you by 
your godmother; the very same you told us, 
you know.” 

“Neither more nor less,” says master, bob- 
bing his head; “a sufficiency, my dear Miss 
Griffin — to a man of my moderate habits an 
ample provision.” 

“By the bye,” cries out Lady Griffin, inter- 
rupting the conversation, “you who are talking 
about money matters there, I wish you would 
come to the aid of poor me! Come, naughty 
boy, and help me out with this long, long 
sum.” 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


129 


Didn't he go — that's all ! My i, how his i’s 
shone, as he skipt across the room, and seated 
himself by my lady ! 

“Look !” said she, “my agents write me over 
that they have received a remittance of 7,200 
rupees, at 2s. 9 d. a rupee. Do tell me what the 
sum is, in pounds and shillings;” which master 
did with great gravity. 

“Nine hundred and ninety pounds. Good; 
I dare say you are right. I'm sure I can't go 
through the fatigue to see. And now comes 
another question. Whose money is this, mine 
or Matilda's? You see it is the interest of a 
sum in India, which we have not had occasion 
to touch; and, according to the terms of poor 
Sir George's will, I really don't know how to 
dispose of the money except to spend it. Ma- 
tilda, what shall we do with it?” 

“La, ma'am, I wish you would arrange the 
business yourself.” 

“Well, then, Algernon, you tell me;” and she 
laid her hand on his, and looked him most 
pathetickly in the face. 

“Why,” says he, “I don't know how Sir 
George left his money; you must let me see his 
will first.” 

“Oh, willingly.” 

Master's chair seemed suddenly to have got 


130 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


springs in the cushns; he was obliged to hold 
himself down. 

“Look here, I have only a copy, taken by my 
hand from Sir George’s own manuscript. Sol- 
diers, you know, do not employ lawyers much, 
and this was written on the night before going 
into action.” And she read, “ T, George Grif - 
fin,’ etc., etc. — you know how these things be- 
gin — ‘being now of sane mind’ — um, urn, um — 
‘leave to my friends, Thomas Abraham Hicks, 
a colonel in the H. E. I. Company’s Service, 
and to John Monro Mackirkincroft (of the 
house of Huffle, Mackirkincroft & Dobbs, at 
Calcutta), the whole of my property, to be 
realized as speedily as they may (consistently 
with the interests of the property), in trust for 
my wife, Leonora Emilia Griffin (born L. E. 
Kicksey), and my only legitimate child, Ma- 
tilda Griffin. The interest resulting from such 
property to be paid to them, share and share 
alike; the principal to remain untouched, in 
the names of the said T. A. Hicks and J. M. 
Mackirkincroft, until the death of my wife, 
Leonora Emilia Griffin, when it shall be paid 
to my daughter, Matilda Griffin, her heirs, 
executors, or assigns.’ ” 

“There,” said my lady, “we won’t read any 
more; all the rest is stuff. But now you know 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


131 


the whole business, tell us what is to be done 
with the money?” 

“Why, the money, unquestionably, should be 
divided between you.” 

“Tant mieuXj say I ; I really thought it had 
been all Matilda’s.” 

****** 

There was a paws for a minit or two after the 
will had been read. Master left the desk at 
which he had been seated with her ladyship, 
paced up and down the room for a while, and 
then came round to the place where Miss Matil- 
da was seated. At last he said, in a low, 
trembling voice : 

“I am almost sorry, my dear Lady Grffin, 
that you have read that will to me; for an at- 
tachment such as mine must seem, I fear, mer- 
cenary, when the object of it is so greatly fa- 
vored by worldly fortune. Miss Griffin — Ma- 
tilda! I know I may say the word;. your dear 
eyes grant me the permission. I need not tell 
you, or you, dear mother-in-law, how long, how 
fondly, I have adored you. My tender, my 
beautiful Matilda, I will not affect to say I 
have not read your heart ere this, and that I 
have not known the preference with which you 
have honored me. Speak it , dear girl! from 
your own sweet lips: in the presence of an af- 


132 The Yellowplush Papers. 

fectionate parent, utter the sentence which is 
to seal my happiness for life. Matilda, dearest 
Matilda ! say, oh say, that you love me !” 

Miss M. shivered, turned pail, rowled her 
eyes about, and fell on master’s neck, whisper- 
ing hodibly, “I do!” 

My lady looked at the pair for a moment with 
her teeth grinding, her i’s glaring, her busm 
throbbing, and her face chock white ; for all the 
world like Madam Pasty, in the oppra of “My- 
dear” (when she’s goin to mudder her chil- 
dring, you recklect) ; and out she flounced from 
the room, without a word, knocking down poar 
me, who happened to be very near the dor, and 
leaving my master along with his crook-back 
mistress. 

I’ve repotted the speech he made to her pretty 
well. The fact is, I got it in a ruff copy; only 
on the copy it’s wrote, “Lady Gridin, Leonora /” 
instead of Miss Gridin, Matilda,” as in the 
abuff, and so on. 

Master had hit the right nail on the head this 
time, he thought: but his adventors an’t over 
yet. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


133 


CHAPTER V. 

THE GRIFFIN'S CLAWS. 

Well, master had hit the right nail on the 
head this time : thanx to luck — the crooked one, 
to be sure, but then it had the goold nobb, 
which was the part Deuceace most valued, as 
well he should; being a connyshure as to the 
relletiff valyou of pretious metals, and much 
preferring virging goold like this to poor old 
battered iron like my Lady Griffin. 

And so, in spite of his father (at which old 
noblemin Mr. Decueace now snapt his fingers) , 
in spite of his detts (which, to do him Justas, 
had never stood much in his way), and in spite 
of his povatty, idleness, extravagans, swindling, 
and debotcheries of all kinds (which an’t gen - 
erally very favorable to a young man who has 
to make his way in the world) ; in spite of all, 
there he was, as I say, at the topp of the trea, 
the fewcher master of a perfect fortun, the de- 
fianced husband of a fool of a wife. What can 
mortial man want more? Vishns of ambishn 
now occupied his soal. Shooting boxes, oppra 
boxes, money boxes always full; hunters at 
Melton ; a seat in the house of Commins : heav- 
en knows what ! and not a poar footman, who 


134 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


only describes what he’s seen, and can’t, in cors, 
pennytrate into the idears and the busms of 
men. 

You may be shore that the three-cornered 
noats came pretty thick now from the Grif- 
finses. Miss was always a-writing them befoar ; 
and now, nite, noon, and mornink, breakfast, 
dinner, and sopper, in they came, till my pan- 
try (for master never read ’em, and I carried 
’em out) was puffickly intolrabble from the 
odor of musk, ambygrease, bargymot, and other 
sense with which they were impregniated. 
Here’s the contense of three on ’em, which I’ve 
kep in my dex these twenty years as skeewrios- 
ities. Faw ! I can smel ‘em at this very minit, 
as I am copying them down. 

BILLY DOO. NO. 1. 

“Monday morning, 2 o’clock.*’ 

" ’Tis the witching hour of night. Luna illu- 
mines my chamber, and falls upon my sleepless 
pillow. By her light I am inditing these words to 
thee, My Algernon. My brave and beautiful, my 
soul’s lord! when shall the time come when the 
tedious night shall not separate us, nor the blessed 
day? Twelve! one! two! I have heard the bells 
chime, and the quarters, and never cease to think 
of my husband. Mv adored Percy, pardon the girl- 
ish confession — I have kissed the letter at this 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


135 


place. Will thy lips press it too, and remain for a 
moment on the spot which has been equally sa- 
luted by you Matilda?” 

This was the fust letter, and was brot to onr 
house by one of the poar footmin, Fitzclarence, 
at sicks o’clock in the morning. I thot it was 
for life and death, and woak master at that ex- 
traornary hour, and gave it to him. I shall 
never forgit him when he red it ; he cramped it 
up, and he cust and swoar, applying to the lady 
who roat, the genlmn that brought it, and me 
who intro juiced it to his notice, such a collec- 
tion of epitafs as I seldum hered, excep at Bill- 
inxgit. The fact is thiss: for a fust letter, 
miss’s noat was rather too strong and senty- 
mentle. But that was her way; she was always 
reading melancholy stoary books — “Thaduse of 
Wawsaw,” the “Sorrows of MacWhirter,” and 
such like. 

After about 6 of them, master never yoused 
to read them; but handid them over to me, to 
see if there was anythink in them which must 
be answered, in order to kip up appearuntses. 
The next letter is 


NO. II. 

“Beloved! to what strange madnesses will pas- 
sion lead one! Lady Griffin, since your avowal 


136 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


yesterday, has not spoken a word to your poor 
Matilda; has declared that she will admit no one 
(heigho! not even you, my Algernon) ; and has 
locked herself in her own dressing-room. I do 
believe that she is jealous, and fancies that you 
were in love with her! Ha, ha! I could have told 
her another tale — n’est-ce pas? Adieu, adieu, 
adieu! A thousand thousand million kisses! 

“M. G. 

“Monday afternoon, 2 o’clock.” 

There was another letter kem before bed- 
time; for though me and master called at the 
Griffinses, we wairnt aloud to enter at no price. 
Mortimer and Fitzclarence grin’d at me, as 
much as to say we were going to be relations; 
but I don’t spose master was very sorry when 
he was obleached to come back without seeing 
the fare objict of his alfeckshns. 

Well, on Chewsdy there was the same game; 
ditto on Wensday; only, when we called there, 
who should we see but our father, Lord Crabs, 
who was waiving his hand to Miss Kieksey, and 
saying he should he hack to dinner at 7, just as 
me and master came up the stares. There was 
no admittns for us though. “Bah ! bah ! never 
mind,” says my lord, taking his* son affecksh- 
nately by the hand. “What, two strings to 
your bow; ay, Algernon? The dowager a little 
jealous, miss a little lovesick. But my lady's 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


137 


fit of anger will vanish, and I promise you, my 
boy, that you shall see your fair one to-mor- 
row.” 

And so saying, my lord walked master down 
stares, looking at him as tender and affecksh- 
nat, and speaking to him as sweet as posbill. 
Master did not know what to think of it. He 
never new what game his old father was at; 
only he somehow felt that he had got his head 
in a net, in spite of his suxess on Sunday. I 
knew it — I knew it quite well, as soon as I saw 
the old genlmn igsammin him, by a kind of 
smile which came over his old face, and was 
somethink betwigst the angellic and the dire- 
bollicle. 

But master’s dowts were cleared up nex day 
and every thing was bright again. At brexfast, 
in comes a note with inclosier, boath of witch I 
here copy: 


NO. IX. 

“Thursday morning. 

“Victoria, Victoria! ! Mamma has yielded at 
last; not her consent to our union, but her consent 
to receive you as before; and has promised to for- 
get the past. Silly woman, how could she ever 
think of you as anything but the lover of your Ma- 
tilda? I am in a whirl of delicious joy and pas- 
sionate excitement. I have been awake all this 


138 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


long night, thinking of thee, my Algernon, and 
longing for the blissful hour of meeting. 

“Come! M.G.” 

This is the inclosier from my lady : 

“I will not tell you that your behavior on Sun- 
day did not deeply shock me. I had been foolish 
enough to think of other plans, and to fancy your 
heart (if you had any) was fixed elsewhere than 
on one at whose foibles you have often laughed 
with me, and whose person at least cannot have 
charmed you. 

“My step-daughter will not, I presume, marry 
without at least going through the ceremony of 
asking my consent; I cannot, as yet, give it. Have 
I not reason to doubt whether she will be happy in 
trusting herself to you? 

“But she is of age, and has a right to receive in 
her own house all those who may be agreeable to 
her — certainly you, who are likely to be one day so 
nearly connected with her. If I have honest rea- 
son to believe that your love for Miss Griffin is 
sincere; if I find in a few months that you your- 
self are still desirous to marry her, I can, of 
course, place no further obstacles in your way. 

“You are welcome, then, to return to our hotel. 
I cannot promise to receive you as I did of old; 
you would despise me if I did. I can promise, 
however, to think no more of all that has passed 
between us, and yield up my own happiness for 
that of the daughter of my dear hu«jbnr>r}. 

“Li. E. G.” 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


139 


Well, now, an’t this a manly, straitforard let- 
ter enough, and natral from a woman whom we 
had, to confess the truth, treated most scuvvily ? 
Master thought so, and went and made a ten- 
der, respeckful speach to Lady Griffin (a little 
flumry costs nothink). Grave and sorrofle he 
kist her hand, and, speakin in a very low adgi- 
tayted voice, calld Hevn to witness how he de- 
plord that his conduct should ever have given 
rise to such an unfortnt ideer : but if he might 
offer her esteem, respect, the warmest and ten- 
derest admiration, he trusted she would accept 
the same, and a deal moar flumry of the kind, 
with dark, solium glansis of the eyes, and plenty 
of white pockit-hankercher. 

He thought he’d make all safe. Poar fool ! 
he was in a net — sich a net as I never yet see set 
to ketch a roag in. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE JEWEL. 

The Shevalier de l’Orge, the young French- 
min whom I wrote of in my last, who had been 
rather shy of his visits while master was com- 
ing it so very strong, now came back to his old 


140 The Yellowplush Papers. 

place by the side of Lady Griffin : there was no 
love now, though, betwigst him and master, al- 
though the shevallier had got his lady back 
agin ; Deuceace being compleatly devoted to his 
crookid Veanus. 

The shevalier was a little pale, moddist, in- 
sinifishnt creature ; and I shoodn’t have 
thought, from his appearants, would have the 
heart to do harm to a fli, much less to stand be- 
for such a tremendious tiger and fire-eater as 
my master. But I see putty well, after a week, 
from his manner of going on — of speakin at 
master, and lookin at him, and olding his lips 
tight when Deuceace came into the room, and 
glaring at him with his Bs, that he hated the 
Honrahble Algernon Percy. 

Shall I tell you why? Because my Lady 
Griffin hated him : hated him wuss than pison, 
or the devvle, or even wuss than her daughter- 
in-law. Praps you phansy that the letter you 
have juss red was honest; praps you amadgin 
that the sean of the reading of the will came on 
by mere chans, and in the reglar cors of suckm- 
stansies : it was all a game , I tell you — a reglar 
trap ; and that extrodnar clever young man, my 
master, as neatly put his foot into it, as ever a 
pocher did in fesnt preserve. 

The shevalier had his q from Lady Griffin. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


141 


When Deuceace went off the feald, back came 
De l’Orge to her feet, not a witt less tender than 
befor. Por fellow, por fellow ! he really loved 
this woman. He might as well have foln in 
love with a boreconstructor ! He was so blind- 
ed and beat by the power wich she had got over 
him, that if she told him black was white he’d 
beleave it, or if she ordered him to commit mur- 
der, he’d do it : she wanted something very like 
it, I can tell you. 

I’ve already said how, in the fust part of their 
acquaintance, master used to laff at De l’Orge’s 
bad Inglish, and funny ways. The little crea- 
ture had a thowsnd of these; and being small, 
and a Frenchman, master, in cors, looked on 
him with that good-humored kind of contemp 
which a good Brittn ot always to show. He 
rayther treated him like an intelligent munky 
than a man, and ordered him about as if he’d 
bean my lady’s footman. 

All this munseer took in very good part, until 
after the quarl betwigst master and Lady Grif- 
fin ; when the lady took care to turn the tables. 
Whenever master and miss were not present 
(as I’ve heard the servants say), she used to 
laff at shevalliay for his obeajance and sivil- 
latty to master. For her part, she wondered 
how a man of his birth could act a servnt : how 


142 The Yellowplush Papers. 

any man could submit to such contemsheous be- 
havior from another; and then she told him 
how Deuceace was always snearing at him be- 
hind his back; how, in fact, he ought to hate 
him corjaly, and how it was suttnly time to 
show his sperrit. 

Well, the poar little man beleaved all this 
from his hart, and was angry or pleased, gentle 
or quarlsum, igsactly as my lady liked. There 
got to be frequint rows betwigst him and mas- 
ter; sharp words flung at each other across the 
dinner-table ; dispewts about handing ladies 
their smeling-botls, or seeing them to their 
carridge ; or going in and out of a roam fust, or 
any such nonsince. 

“For hevn’s sake,” I heerd my lady, in the 
midi of one of these tiffs, say, pail, and the tears 
trembling in her i’s, “do, do be calm, Mr. Deuce- 
ace. Monsieur de l’Orge, I beseech you to for- 
give him. You are, both of you, so esteemed, 
lov’d, by members of this family, that for its 
peace as well as your own, you should forbear to 
quarrel.” 

It was on the way to the Sally Mangy that 
this brangling had begun, and it ended jest as 
they were seating themselves. I shall never for- 
git poar little De l’Orge’s eyes, when my lady 
said “both of you.” He staird at my lady iof 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


143 


a momint, turned pail, red, look’d wild, and 
then, going round to master, shook his hand as 
if he would have wrung it off. Mr. Deuceace 
only bow’d and grin’d, and turned away quite 
stately; Miss heaved a loud 0 from her busm, 
and looked up in his face with an igspreshn jest 
as if she could have eat him up with love; and 
the little shevalliay sate down to his soop-plate, 
and wus so happy, that I’m blest if he wasn’t 
crying ! He thought the widdow had made her 
declyration, and would have him, and so 
thought Deuceace, who look’d at her for some 
time mighty bitter and contemshus, and then 
fell a-talking with Miss. 

Now, though master didn’t choose to marry 
Lady Griffin, as he might have done, he yet 
thought fit to be very angry at the notion of her 
marrying anybody else; and so, consquintly, 
was in a fewry at this confision which she had 
made regarding her parshaleaty for the French 
shevaleer. 

And this I’ve perseaved in the cors of my 
expearants through life, that when you vex him, 
a roag’s no longer a roag: you find him out at 
onst when he’s in a passion, for he shows, as it 
ware, his cloven foot the very instnt you tread 
on it. At least, this is what young roags do ; it 
requires very cool blood and long practis to get 


144 The Yellowplush Papers. 

over this pint, and not to show your pashn when 
you feel it and snarl when you are angry. Old 
Crabs wouldn’t do it; being like another noble- 
min, of whom I heard the Duke of Wellington 
say, while waiting behind his graci’s chair, that 
if you were kicking him from behind, no one 
standing before him would know it, from the 
bewtifle smiling igspreshn of his face. Young 
master hadn’t got so far in the thief’s gram- 
mer, and, when he was angry, show’d it. And 
it’s also to be remarked (a very profownd ob- 
servatin for a footmin, but we have i’s though 
we do wear plush britchis), it’s to be remarked, 
I say, that one of these chaps is much sooner 
maid angry than another, because honest men 
yield to other people, roags never do; honest 
men love other people, roags only themselves; 
and the slightest thing which comes in the way 
of their beloved objects sets them fewrious. Mas- 
ter hadn’t led a life of gambling, swindling, 
and every kind of debotch to be good-tempered 
at the end of it, I prommis you. 

He was in a pashun, and when he was in a 
pashn, a more insalent, insuffrable, overbear- 
ing broot didn’t live. 

. This was the very pint to which my lady 
wished to bring him; for I must tell you, that 
though she had been trying all her might to set 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


145 


master and the shevalliay by the years, she had 
suxeaded only so far as to make them hate each 
other prof owndly : but somehow or other, the 2 
cox wouldn’t fight. 

I doan’t think Deuceace ever suspected any 
game on the part of her ladyship, for she car- 
ried it on so admirally, that the quarls which 
daily took place betwigst him and the French- 
man never seemed to come from her; on the 
contry, she acted as the reglar pease-maker be- 
tween them, as I’ve just shown in the tiff which 
took place at the door of the Sally Mangy. Be- 
sides, the 2 young men, though reddy enough to 
snarl, were natrally unwilling to cum to bloes. 
I’ll tell you why: being friends, and idle, they 
spent their mornins as young fashnabbles gen- 
rally do, at billiads, fensing, riding, pistle- 
shooting, or some such improoving study. In 
billiads, master beat the Frenchmn hollow 
(and had won a pretious sight of money from 
him: but that’s neither here nor there, or, as 
the French say, ontry noo ) ; at pistle-shooting, 
master could knock down eight immidges out 
of ten, and De l’Orge seven; and in fensing, 
the Frenchman could pink the Honorable Al- 
gernon down evry one of his weskit buttns. 
They’d each of them been out more than onst, 
for every Frenchman will fight, and master had 


146 The Yellowplush Papers. 

been obleag’d to do so in the cors of his bisniss ; 
and knowing each other’s curridg, as well as the 
fact that either could put a hundrid bolls run- 
ning into a hat at 30 yards, they wairn’t very 
willing to try such exparrymence upon their 
own hats with their own heads in them. So 
you see they kep quiet, and only grould at each 
other. 

But to-day Deuceace was in one of his thun- 
dering black humers; and when in this way he 
wouldn’t stop for man or devvle. I said that 
he walked away from the shevalliay, who had 
given him his hand in his sudden bust of joyfle 
good-humor ; and who, I do beleave, would have 
hugd a she-bear, so very happy was he. Master 
walked away from him pale and hotty, and, 
taking his seat at table, no moor mindid the 
brandishments of Miss Griffin, but only replied 
to them with a pshaw, or a dam at one of us 
servnts, or abuse of the soop, or the wine; 
cussing and swearing like a trooper, and not 
like a wel-bred son of a noble British peer. 

“Will your ladyship,” says he, slivering off 
the wing of a pully ally bashymall , “allow me 
to help you ?” 

“I thank you! no; but I will trouble Mon- 
sieur de l’Orge.” And towards that gnlmn she 
turned, with a most tender and fasnating smile. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


147 


“Your ladyship has taken a very, sudden ad- 
miration for Mr. de l’Orge’s carving. You 
used to like mine once.” 

“You are very skilful ; but to-day, if you will 
allow me, I will partake of something a little 
simpler.” 

The Frenchman helped ; and, being so happy, 
in cors, spilt the gravy. A great blob of brown 
80s spurted on to master’s chick, and myan- 
drewd down his shert collar and virging-white 
weskit. 

“Confound you !” says he, “M. de l’Orge, you 
have done this on purpose. And down went his 
knife and fork, over went him tumbler of wine, 
a deal of it into poar Miss Griffinses lap, who 
looked fritened and ready to cry. 

My lady bust into a fit of laffin, peel upon 
peel, as if k was the best joak in the world. De 
POrge giggled and grin’d too. “Pardong,” says 
he; “meal pardong, mong share munseer.”* 
And he looked as if he would have done it again 
for a penny. 

The little Frenchman was quite in extasis; 
he found himself all of a suddn at the very top 
of the trea ; and the laff for onst turned against 

♦In the long dialogues, we have generally ven- 
tured to change the peculiar spelling of our friend 
Mr. Yellowplush. 

10 


148 The Yellowplush Papers. 

his rivle: he actialy had the odassaty to pro- 
pose to my lady in English to take a glass of 
wine. 

“Veal you,” says he, in his jargin, “take a 
glas of Madere viz me, mi ladi?” And he 
looked round, as if he’d igsackly hit the Eng- 
lish manner and pronunciation. 

“With the greatest pleasure,” says Lady G., 
most graciously nodding . t him, and gazing at 
him as she drank up th? wine. She’d refused 
master before, and this didn’t increase his 
good-humer. 

Well, they went on, master snarling, snap- 
ping and swearing, making himself, I must 
confess, as much of a blaggard as any I ever 
see; and my lady employing her time betwigst 
him and the shevalliay, doing everythink to 
irritate master, and flatter the Frenchmn. 
Desert came : and by this time, Miss was stock- 
still with fright, the chevaleer half tipsy with 
pleasure and gratafied vannaty, my lady puf- 
fickly raygent with smiles and master bloo with 
rage. 

“Mr. Deuceace,” says my lady, in a most win- 
ning voice, after a little chaffing (in which she 
only worked him up moar and moar), “may I 
trouble you for a few of those grapes? they look 
delicious.” 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


149 


For answer, master seas’d hold of the grayp 
dish, and sent it sliding down the table to De 
TOrge ; upsetting, in his way, fruit-plates, glass- 
es, dickanters, and heaven knows what. 

“Monsieur de l’Orge,” says he, shouting out 
at the top of his voice, “have the goodness to 
help Lady Griffin. She wanted my grapes long 
ago, and has found out they are sour !” 

There was a dead paws of a moment or so. 

****** 

“Ah!” says my lady, “vous osez m’insulter, 
devant mes gens, dans ma propre maison — 
c’est par trop fort, monsieur.” And up she got 
and flung out of the room. Miss followed her, 
screeching out, “Mamma — for God’s sake — 
Lady Griffin !” and here the door slammed on 
the pair. 

Her ladyship did very well to speak French. 
De VOrge would not have understood her else ; 
as it was he heard quite enough; and as the 
door clikt too, in the presents of me, and 
Messeers Mortimer and Fitzclarence, the fam- 
ily footmen, he walks round to my master, and 
hits him a slap on the face, and says, “Prends 
ga, menteur et lache !” which means, “Take 
that, you liar and coward !” — rayther strong 
igspreshns for one genlmn to use to another. 


150 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Master staggered back and looked bewil- 
dered ; and then he gave a kind of a scream, and 
then he made a run at the Frenchman, and 
then me and Mortimer flung ourselves upon 
jhim, whilst Fitzclarence embraced the sheval- 
liay. 

“A demain !” says he, clinching his little fist 
and walking away not very sorry to git off. 

When he was fairly down stares, we let go of 
master: who swallowed a goblit of water, and 
then pawsing a little and pulling out his pus, 
he presented to Messeers Mortimer and Fitz- 
clarence a luydor each. “I will give you five 
more to-morrow,” says he, “if you will promise 
to keep this secrit.” 

And then he walked in to the ladies. “If you 
knew,” says he, going up to Lady Griffin, and 
speaking very slow (in cors we were all at the 
keyhole), “the pain I have endured in the last 
minute, in consequence of the rudeness and 
insolence of which I have been guilty to your 
ladyship, you would think my own remorse was 
punishment sufficient, and would grant me par- 
don.” 

My lady bowed, and said she didn’t wish for 
explanations. Mr. Deuceace was her daugh- 
ter’s guest, and not hers; but she certainly 
vould never demean herself by sitting again at 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 151 

table with him. And so saying, out she bolted 
again. 

“Oh! Algernon! Algernon !” says Miss, in 
teers, “what is this dreadful mystery — these 
fearful shocking quarrels? Tell me, has any- 
thing happened? Where, where is the cheva- 
lier ?” 

Master smiled and said, “Be under no alarm, 
my sweetest Matilda. De l’Orge did not un- 
derstand a word of the dispute; he was too 
much in love for that. He is but gone away for 
half an hour, I believe; and will return to cof- 
fee.” 

1 knew what master’s game was, for if Miss 
had got a hinkling of the quarrel betwigst him 
and the Frenchman, we should have had her 
screeming at the “Hotel Mirabeau,” and the 
juice and all to pay. He only stopt for a few 
minnits and cumfitted her, and then drove off 
to his friend, Captain Bullseye, of the Rifles; 
with whom, I spose, he talked over this un- 
plesnt bisniss. We fownd, at our hotel, a note 
from De POrge, saying where his secknd was to 
be seen. 

Two mornings after there was a parrowgraf 
in Gallynanny’s Messinger, which I hear beg 
leaf to transcribe : 


152 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


“FEARFUL DUEL. 

“Yesterday morning, at six o’clock, a meeting 
took place in the Bois de Boulogne, between the 
Hon. A. P. D — ce — ce, a younger son of the Earl of 
Cr — bs, and the Chevalier de l’O . The chev- 
alier was attended by Major de M , of the Royal 

Guard, and the Hon. Mr. D by Captain 

B — 11s — ye, of the British Rifle Corps. As far as 
we have been able to learn the particulars of this 
deplorable affair, the dispute originated in the 
house of a lovely lady (one of the most brilliant 
ornaments of our embassy), and the duel took 
place on the morning ensuing. 

“The chevalier (the challenged party, and the 
most accomplished amateur swordsman in Paris) 
waived his right of choosing the weapons, and the 
combat took place with pistols. 

“The combatants were placed at forty paces, 
with directions to advance to a barrier which 
separated them only eight paces. Each was fur- 
nished with two pistols. Monsieur de FO fired 

almost immediately, and the ball took effect in the 
left wrist of his antagonist, who dropped the pistol 
which he held in that hand. He fired, however, 
directly with his right, and the chevalier fell to 
the ground, we fear mortally wounded. A ball has 
entered above his hip-joint, and there is very little 
hope that he can recover. 

“We have heard that the cause of this desperate 
duel was a blow which the chevalier ventured to 
give to the Hon. Mr. D. If so, there is some rea- 
son for the unusual and determined manner in 
which the duel was fought. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


153 


“Mr. Deu — a — e returned to his hotel; whither 
his excellent father, the Right Hon. Earl of Cr — bs, 
immediately hastened on hearing of the sad news, 
and is now bestowing on his son the most affec- 
tionate parental attention. The news only reached 
his lordship yesterday at noon, while at break- 
fast with his Excellency Lord Bobtail, our am- 
bassador. The noble earl fainted on receiving the 
intelligence; but in spite of the shock to his own 
nerves and health, persisted in passing last night 
by the couch of his son.” 

And so he did. “This is a sad business, 
Charles,” says my lord to me, after seeing his 
son, and settling himself down in our salong. 
“Have you any segars in the house? And, 
hark ye, send me up a bottle of wine and some 
luncheon. I can certainly not leave the neigh- 
borhood of my dear boy.” 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE CONSQUINSIES. 

The shevalliay did not die, for the ball came 
out of its own accord, in the midst of a violent 
fever and inflamayshn which was brot on by the 
wound. He was kept in bed for 6 weeks though, 
and did not recover for a long time after. 


154 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


As for master, his lot, I’m sorry to say, was 
wuss than that of his advisary. Inflammation 
came on too ; and, to make an ugly story short, 
they were obliged to take off his hand at the 
rist. 

He bore it, in cors, like a Trojin, and in a 
month he too was well, and his wound heel’d; 
but I never see a imm look so like a devvle as he 
used sometimes, when he looked down at the 
stump ! 

To be sure, in Miss Grifflnses eyes, this only 
indeerd him the mor. She sent twenty noats a 
day to ask for him, calling him her beloved, her 
unfortunat, her hero, her wictim, and I dono 
what. I’ve kep some of the noats as I tell you, 
and curiously sentimentle they are, beating the 
sorrows of MacWhirter all to nothing. 

Old Crabs used to come offen, and consumed a 
power of wine and seagars at our house. I 
bleave he was at Paris because there was an exy- 
cution in his own house in England; and his 
son was a sure find (as they say) during his 
illness, and couldn’t deny himself to the old 
genlmn. His eveninx my lord spent reglar at 
Lady Griffin’s ; where, as master was ill, I didn't 
go any more now, and where the shevalier wasn’t 
there to disturb him. 

“You see how that woman hates you, Deuce- 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


155 


ace,” says my lord, one day, in a fit of cander, 
after they had been talking about Lady Griffin : 
“she has not done with you yet , I tell you fairly.” 

“Curse her,” says master, in a fury, lifting up 
his maim’d arm — “curse her ! but I will be even 
with her one day. I am sure of Matilda : I took 
care to put that beyond the reach of a failure. 
The girl must marry me, for her own sake.” 

“For her own sake! Oh ho! Good, good!” 
My lord lifted his i’s, and said gravely, “I un- 
derstand, my dear boy : it is an excellent plan.” 

“Well,” says master, grinning fearcely and 
knowingly at his exlent old father, “as the girl 
is safe, what harm can I fear from the fiend of a 
stepmother?” 

My lord only gev a long whizzle, and, soon 
after, taking up his hat, walked off. I saw him 
sawnter down the Plas Vandome, and go in 
quite calmly to the old door of Lady Griffinses 
hotel. Bless his old face ! such a puffikly good- 
natured, kind-hearted, merry, selfish old scoum 
drel, I never shall see again. 

His lordship was quite right in saying to mas- 
ter that “Lady Griffin hadn’t done with him.” 
No moar she had. But she never would have 
thought of the nex game she was going to play, 
if somebody hadn't put her up to it. Who did? 
If you red the above passidge, and saw how a 


156 The Yellowplush Papers. 

venrabble old genlmn took his hat, and saun- 
tered down the Plas Vendome (looking hard 
and kind at all the nussary-maids — buns they 
call them in France — in the way), I leave you to 
guess who was the author of the nex scheam ; a 
woman, suttnly, never would have pitcht on it. 

In the fuss payper which I wrote concerning 
Mr. Deuceace’s adventers, and his kind behay- 
vior to Messrs. Dawkins and Blewitt, I had the 
honor of laying before the public a skidewl of 
my master’s detts, in witch was the following 
itim: 

Bills of xchange and I. O. U.’s, 49631. Os. Od. 

The I. 0. U.se were trifling, saying a thowsnd 
pound. The bill amountid to four thowsnd 
moar. 

Now, the lor is in France, that if a genlmn 
gives these in England, and a French genlmn 
gits them in any way, he can pnrsew the Eng- 
lishman who has drawn them, even though he 
should be in France. Master did not know 
this fact — laboring under a very Common mis- 
tak, that, when onst out of England, he might 
wissle at all the debts he left behind him. 

My Lady Griffin sent over to her slissators in 
London, who made arrangemints with the per- 
sons who possest the fine collection of ortografs 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


157 


on stampt paper which master had left behind 
him ; and they were glad enuff to take any op- 
pertunity of getting back their money. 

One fine morning, as I was looking about in 
the court-yard of our hotel, talking to the serv- 
ant-gals, as was my reglar custom, in order to' 
improve myself in the French languidge, one of 
them comes up to me and says, “Tenez, Mon- 
sieur Charles, down below in the office there is a 
bailiff, with a couple of gendarmes, asking for 
your master — a-t-il des dettes par hasard ?” 

I was struck all of a heap — the truth flasht 
on my mind’s hi. “Toinette,” says I, for that 
was the gal’s name — “Toinette,” says I, giving 
her a kiss, “keep them for two minnits, as you 
valyou my affeckshn;” and then I gave her an- 
other kiss, and ran up stares to our chambers. 
Master had now pretty well recovered of his 
wound, and was aloud to drive abowt: it was 
lucky for him that he had the strength to move. 
“Sir, sir,” says I, “the bailiffs are after you, 
and you must run for your life.” 

“Bailiffs?” says he: “nonsense! I don’t, 
thank heaven, owe a shilling to any man.” 

“Stuff, sir,” says I, forgetting my respeck; 
“don’t you owe money in England ? I tell you 
the bailiffs are here, and will be on you in a mo- 
ment.” 


lo8 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


As I spoke, cling cling, ling ling, goes the bell 
of the anty-shamber, and there they were sure 
enough ! 

What was to be done? Quick as litening, I 
' throws off my livry coat, claps my goold lace hat 
on master’s head, and makes him put on my 
livry. Then I wraps myself up in his dressing- 
gown, and lolling down on the sofa, bids him 
open the dor. 

There they were — the bailiff — two jondarms 
with him — Toinette, and an old waiter. When 
Toinette sees master, she smiles, and says : “Dis 
done, Charles! oh est done ton maitre? Chez 
lui, n’est-ce pas ? C’est le jeune homme k mon- 
sieur,” says she, curtsying to the bailiff. 

The old waiter was just a-going to blurt out, 
“Mais ce n’est pas!” when Toinette stops him, 
and says, “Laissez done passer ces messieurs, 
vieux bete ;” and in they walk, the 2 jon d’arms 
taking their post in the hall. 

Master throws open the salong doar very 
gravely, and touching my hat says, “Have you 
any orders about the cab, sir?” 

“Why, no, Chawls,” says I; “I shan’t drive 
out to-day.” 

The old bailiff grinned, for he understood 
English (having had plenty of English cus- 
tomers), and says in French, as master goes 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


159 


out, “I think, sir, you had better let your servant 
get a coach, for I am under the painful necessity 
of arresting you, au nom de la loi, for the sum 
of ninety-eight thousand seven hundred francs, 
owed by you to the Sieur Jacques Francois Le- 
brun, of Paris and he pulls out a number of 
bills, with master’s acceptances on them sure 
enough. 

“Take a chair, sir,” says I ; and down he sits ; 
and I began to chaff him, as well as I could, 
about the weather, my illness, my sad axdent, 
having lost one of my hands, which was stuck 
into my busum, and so on. 

At last after a minnit or two, I could contane 
no longer, and bust out in a horse laff. 

The old fellow turned quite pail, and began to 
suspect somethink. “Hola!” says he; “gen- 
darmes ! a moi ! a moi ! J e suis floue, vole,” 
which means, in English, that he was reglar 
sold. 

The jondarmes jumped into the room, and so 
did Toinette and the waiter. Grasefly rising 
from my arm-chare, I took my hand from 
my dressing-gownd, and, flinging it open, stuck 
up on the chair one of the neatest legs ever 
seen. 

I then pinted myjestickly — to what do you 
think? — to my plush tites ! those sellabrated 


160 The Yellowplush Papers. 

Inigspressables which have rendered me famous 
in Yourope. 

Taking the hint, the jondarmes and the ser- 
vnts rord out lading; and so did Charles Yel- 
lowplush, Esquire, I can tell you. Old Grip- 
pard the bailiff looked as if he would faint in 
his chare. 

I heard a kab galloping like mad out of the 
hotel-gate, and knew then that my master was 
safe. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE END OF MR. DEUCEACE’s HISTORY. — LIMBO. 

My tail is droring rabidly to a close : my suv- 
vice with Mr. Deuceace didn’t continyou very 
long after the last chapter, in which I described 
my admiral strattyjam, and my singlar self- 
devocean. There’s very few servnts, I can tell 
you, who’d have thought of such a contrivance,/ 
and very few moar would have eggsycuted it 
when thought of. 

But, after all, beyond the trifling advantich 
to myself in selling master’s roab de sham, 
which you, gentle reader, may remember I woar, 
and in dixcovering a fipun note in one of the 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


161 


pockets, — beyond this, I say, there was to poar 
master very little advantich in what had been 
done. It’s true he had escaped. Very good. 
But Frans is not like Great Brittin ; a man in a 
livry coat, with 1 arm, is pretty easly known, 
and caught, too, as I can tell you. 

Such was the case with master. He coodn 
leave Paris, moarover, if he would. What was 
to become, in that case, of his bride — his unch- 
backed hairis? He knew that young lady’s 
' temprimong (as the Parishers say) too well to 
let her long out of his site. She had nine thou- 
sand a yer. She’d been in love a duzn times be- 
for, and mite be agin. The Honrabble Algernon 
Deuceace was a little too wide awake to trust 
much to the constnsy of so very inflammable a 
young creacher. Heavn bless us, it was a mary- 
cle she wasn’t earlier married ! I do bleave 
(from suttn seans that past betwigst us) that 
she’d have married me, if she hadn’t been se- 
juiced by the supearor rank and indianuity of 
the genlmn in whose survace I was. 

Well, to use a commin igspreshn, the beaks 
were after him. How was he to manitch ? He 
coodn get away from his debts, and he wooden 
quit the fare objict of his affeckshns. He was 
ableejd, then, as the French say, to lie perdew, 
— going out at night, like a howl out of a hivy- 


162 The Yellowplush Papers. 

bush, and returning in the daytime to his roast. 
For its a maxum in France (and I wood it were 
followed in Ingland), that after dark no man is 
lible for his detts; and in any of the royal gar- 
dens — the Twillaries, the Pally Roil, or the 
Lucksimbug, for example — a man may wander 
from sunrise to evening, and hear nothing of 
the ojus dunns : they an’t admitted into these 
places of public enjyment and rondyvoo any 
more than dogs; the centuries at the garden- 
gate having orders to shuit all such. 

Master, then, was in this uncomfrable situ- 
ation — neither liking to go nor to stay ! peeping 
out at nights to have an interview with his 
miss; ableagd to shuffle off her repeated ques- 
tions as to the reason of all this disgeise, and to 
talk of his two thowsnd a year jest as if he had it 
and didn’t owe’ a shilling in the world. 

Of course, now, he began to grow mighty 
eager for the marritch. 

He roat as many noats as she had done befor ; 
swoar against delay and cerymony ; talked of the 
pleasures of Hyming, the ardship that the ardor 
of two arts should be allowed to igspire, the folly 
of waiting for the consent of Lady Griffin. She 
was but a step-mother, and an unkind one. Miss 
was (he said) a major, might marry wham she 
liked; and suttnly had paid Lady G. quite as 


Mr. Deuceaee at Paris. 


163 


much attention as she ought, by paying her the 
compliment to ask her at all. 

And so they went on. The curious thing was, 
that when master was pressed about his cause 
for not coming out till night-time, he was mis- 
terus; and Miss Griffin, when asked why she 
wooden marry, igsprest, or rather, didn't igs- 
press, a simlar secrasy. Wasn’t it hard? the 
cup seemed to be at the lip of both of ’em, and 
yet somehow, they could not manitch to take a 
drink. 

But one morning, in reply to a most desprat 
epistol wrote by my master over night, Deuceaee, 
delighted, gits an answer from his soal’s beluffd, 
which ran thus : — 

MISS GRIFFIN TO THE HON. A. P. DEUCE- 
ACE. 

“Dearest — You say you would share a cottage 
with me; there is no need, luckily, for that! You 
plead the sad sinking of your spirits at our de- 
layed union. Beloved, do you think my heart re- 
joices at our separation? You bid me disregard 
the refusal of Lady Griffin, and tell me that I owe 
her no further duty. 

“Adored Algernon! I can refuse you no more. 
I was willing not to lose a single chance of recon* 
ciliation with this unnatural step-mother. Respect 
for the memory of my sainted father bid me do all 
in my power to gain her consent to my union with 
11 


164 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


you; nay, shall I own it? prudence dictated the 
measure; for to whom should she leave the share 
of money accorded to her by my father’s will but 
to my father’s child? 

“But there are bounds beyond which no for- 
bearance can go; and, thank heaven, we have no 
need of looking to Lady Griffin for sordid wealth; 
we have a competency without her. Is it not so, 
dearest Algernon? 

“Be it as you wish, then, dearest, bravest, and 
best. Your poor Matilda has yielded to you her 
heart long ago; she has no longer need to keep 
back her name. Name the hour, and I will delay 
no more; but seek for refuge in your arms from 
the contumely and insult which meet me ever here. 

“Matilda. 

“P. S. — Oh, Algernon! if you did but know what 
a noble part your dear father has acted through- 
out, in doing his best endeavors to further our 
plans, and to soften Lady Griffin! It is not his 
fault that she is inexorable as she is. I send you a 
note sent by her to Lord Crabs; we will laugh at it 
soon, n’est-ce pas?” 


II. 

“My Lord — In reply to your demand for Miss 
Griffin’s hand, in favor of your son, Mr. Algernon 
Dftuceace, I can only repeat what I before have 
been under the necessity of stating to you — that I 
do not believe a union with a person of Mr. Deuce- 
ace’s character would conduce to my step-daugh- 
ter’s happiness, and therefore refuse my consent. 
I will beg you to communicate the contents of this 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


165 


note to Mr. Deuceace; and implore you no more to 
touch upon a subject which you must be aware is 
deeply painful to me. 

“I remain your lordship’s most humble servant, 

“L. B. Griffin. 

“The Right Hon. the Earl of Crabs.” 

“Hang her ladyship !” says my master, “what 
care I for it ?” As for the old lord who’d been 
so afishous in his kindness and advice, master 
recknsiled that pretty well, with thinking that 
his lordship knew he was going to marry ten 
thousand a year, and igspected to get some share 
of it ; for he roat back the following letter to his 
father, as well as a flaming one to Miss : 

“Thank you, my dear father, for your kindness 
in that awkward business. You know how pain- 
fully I am situated just now, and can pretty well 
guess both the causes of my disquiet. A marriage 
with my beloved Matilda will make me the happi- 
est of men. The dear girl consents, and laughs at 
the foolish pretensions of her mother-in-law. To 
tell you the truth, I wonder she yielded to them 
so long. Carry your kindness a step further, and 
find for us a parson, a license, and make us two 
into one. We are both major, you know; so that 
the ceremony of a guardian’s consent is unnec- 
essary. Your affectionate 

* “Algernon Deuceace. 

“How I regret that difference between us some 
time back! Matters are changed now, and shall 
be more still after the marriage.” 


166 The Yellowplush Papers. 

I knew what my master meant, — that he 
would give the old lord the money after he was 
married : and as it was probble that miss would 
see the letter he roat, he made it such as not to 
let her see two clearly into his present uncom- 
frable situation. 

I took this letter along with the tender one 
for Miss, reading both of ’em, in course, by the 
way. Miss, on getting hers, gave an inegspress- 
able look with the white of her i’s, kist the letter, 
and prest it to her busm. Lord Crabs read his 
quite calm, and then they fell a-talking togeth- 
er ; and told me to wait awhile, and I should git 
an anser. 

After a deal of counseltation, my lord brought 
out a card, and there was simply written on it, 

" To-morrow , at the Ambassador's , at Twelve ” 

“Carry that back to your master, Chawls,” 
says he, “and bid him not to fail.” 

You may be sure I stept back to him pretty 
quick, and gave him the card and the messinge. 
Master looked sattasfied with both; but suttnly 
not over happy; no man is the day before his 
marridge; much more his marridge with a 
hump-back, Harriss though she be. 

Well, as he was a-going to depart this bache- 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


167 


lor life, he did what every man in such suckm- 
stances ought to do ; he made his will, — that is, 
he made a dispasition of his property ; and wrote 
letters to his creditors telling them of his lucky 
chance; and that after his marridge he would 
sutnly pay them every stiver. Before , they 
must know his povvaty well enough to be sure 
that paymint was out of the question. 

To do him justas, he seam’d to be inclined to 
do the thing that was right, now that it didn’t 
put him to any inkinvenients to do so. 

“Chawls,” says he, handing me over a tenpun- 
note, “here’s your wagis, and thank you for get- 
ting me out of the scrape with the bailiffs : when 
we are married, you shall be my valet out of 
liv’ry and I’ll treble your salary.” 

His vallit! praps his butler! Yes, thought 
I, here’s a chance — a vallit to ten thousand a 
year. Nothing to do but to shave him, and 
read his notes, and let my whiskers grow; to 
dress in spick and span black, and a clean shut 
per day ; muffings every night in the housekeep- 
er’s room; the pick of the gals in the servants’ 
hall ; a chap to clean my boots for me, and my 
master’s opra bone reglar once a week. I knew 
what a vallit was as well as any genlmn in ser- 
vice; and this I can tell you, he’s genrally a 
hapier, idler, handsomer, mor genlmnly man 


168 The Yellowplush Papers. 

than his master. He has more money to spend, 
for genlmn will leave their silver in their wais- 
coat pockets; more suxess among the gals; as 
good dinners, and as good wine — that is, if he’s 
friends with the butler: and friends in corse 
they will be if they know which way their inter- 
est lies. 

But these are only cassels in the air, what the 
Trench call shutter d’Espang. It wasn’t roat 
in the book of fate that I was to be Mr. Deuce- 
ace’s vallit. 

Days will pass at last — even days befor a wed- 
ding, (the longist and unpleasantist day in the 
whole of a man’s life, I can tell you, excep, may 
be, the day before his hanging) ; and at length 
Aroarer dawned on the suspicious morning 
which was to unite in the bonds of Hyming the 
Honrable Algernon Percy Deuceace, Exquire, 
and Miss Matilda Griffin. My master’s ward- 
robe wasn’t so rich as it had been ; for he’d left 
the whole of his nicknax and trumpry of dress- 
ing-cases and rob dy shams, his betwifle museum 
of varnished boots, his curous colleckshn of 
Stulz and Staub coats, when he had been 
ableaged to quit so sudnly our pore dear lodginx 
at the Hotel Mirabew; and being incog at a 
friend’s house, ad contentid himself with or- 
dring a couple of shoots of cloves from a com- 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


1G9 


mon tailor, with a suffishnt quantity of tin- 
ning. 

Well, he put on the best of his coats — a blue; 
and I thought it my duty to ask him whether 
he’d want his frock again : he was good-natured 
and said, “Take it and be hanged to you.” Half- 
past eleven o’clock came, and I was sent to look 
out at the door, if there were any suspicious 
charicters (a precious good nose I have to find 
a bailiff out I can tell you, and an i which will 
almost see one round a corner) ; and presenly 
a very modest green glass-coach droave up, and 
in master stept. I didn’t, in corse, appear on 
the box; because, being known, my appearints 
might have compromised master. But I took 
a short cut, and walked as quick as posbil down 
to the Rue de Foburg St. Honore, where his 
exlnsy the English ambasdor lives, and where 
marridges are always performed betwigst Eng- 
lish folk at Paris. 

****** 

There is, almost nex door to the ambasdor’s 
hotel, another hotel, of that lo kind which the 
French call cabbyrays, or wine-houses; and jest 
as master’s green glass-coach pulled up, another 
coach drove off, out of which came two ladies, 
whom I knew pretty well, — suffiz, that one had 


170 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


a humpback, and the ingenious reader will know 
why she came there; the other was poor Miss 
Kicksey, who came to see her turned off. 

Well, master’s glass-coach droav up, jest as I 
got within a few yards of the door ; our carridge, 
I say, droav up, and stopt. Down gits coach- 
min to open the door, and comes I to give Mr. 
Deuceace an arm, when — out of the cabaray 
shoot four fellows, and draw up betwigst the 
coach and embassy-doar ; two other chaps go to 
the other doar of the carridge, and, opening it, 
one says — “Rendezvous, M. Deuceace ! Je vous 
arrete au nom de la loi !” (Which means, “Get 
out of that, Mr. D. ; you are nabbed, and no mis- 
take.”) Master turned gashly pail, and sprung 
to the other side of the coach, as if a serpint had 
stung him. He flung open the door, and was 
for making off that way; but he saw the four 
chaps standing betwigst libbarty and him. He 
slams down the front window, and screams out, 
“Fouettez, cocher!” (which means, “Go it, 
coachmin !”) in a despert loud voice ; but coach- 
min wooden go it, and besides was off his box. 

The long and short of the matter was, that 
jest as I came up to the door two of the bums 
jumped into the carridge. I saw all; I knew 
my duty, and so very mornfly I got up behind. 

“Tiens,” says one of the chaps in the street ; 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


171 


“c’est ce drole qui nous a floue l’autre jour.” I 
knew ’em, but was too melumcolly to smile. 

“Ou irons-nous done?” says coachmin to the 
genlmn who had got inside. 

A deep woice from the intearor shouted out, 
in reply to the coachmin, “A Sainte Pelagie !” 
****** 

And now, praps, I ot to dixeribe to you the 
humors of the prizn of Sainte Pelagie, which is 
the French for Fleat, or Queen’s Bentch: but 
on this subject I’m rather shy of writing, partly 
because the admiral Boz has, in the history of 
Mr. Pickwick, made such a dixeripshun of a 
prizn, that mine wooden read very amyousingly 
afterwids; and, also, because, to tell you the 
truth, I didn’t stay long in it, being not in a 
humer to waist my igsistance by passing away 
the ears of my youth in such a dull place. 

My fust errint now was, as you may phansy, 
to carry a noat from master to his destined 
bride. The poar thing was sadly taken aback, 
as I can tell you, when she found, after remain- 
ing two hours at the Embassy, that her husband 
didn’t make his appearance. And so, after 
staying on and on, and yet seeing no husband, 
she was forsed at last to trudge dishconslit home, 
where I was already waiting for her with a letter 
from my master. 


172 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


There was no use now denying the fact of his 
arrest, and so he contest it at onst ; but he made 
a cock-and-bull story of treachery of a friend, 
infimous fodgery, and heaven knows what, 
However, it didn’t matter much ; if he had told 
her that he had been betrayed by the man in 
the moon, she would have bleaved him. 

Lady Griffin never used to appear now at any 
of my visits. She kep one drawing-room, and 
Miss dined and lived alone in another; they 
quarld so much that praps it was best they 
should live apart; only my Lord Crabs used to 
see both, comforting each with that winning 
and innsnt way he had. He came in as Miss, 
in tears, was lisning to my account of master’s 
seazure, and hoping that the prisn wasn’t a 
horrid place, with a nasty horrid dun jeon, and 
a dreadfle jailer, and nasty horrid bread and 
water. Law bless us ! she had borrod her ideers 
from the novvles she had been reading ! 

“0, my lord, my lord,” says she, “have you 
heard this fatal story ?” 

“Dearest Matilda, what ? For heaven’s sake, 
you alarm me! What — yes — no — is it — no, it 
can’t be ! Speak !” says my lord, seizing me by 
the choler of my coat. “What has happened to 
my boy?” 

“Please you, my lord,” says I, “he’s at this 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


173 


moment in prisn, no wuss, — having been incar- 
serated about two hours ago/’ 

“In prison ! Algernon in prison ! ’tis impos- 
sible! Imprisoned, for what sum? Mention 
it, and I will pay to the utmost farthing in my 
power.” 

“I’m sure your lordship is very kind,” says I 
(recklecting the sean betwigst him and master, 
whom he wanted to diddil out of a thowsand 
lb.) ; “and you’ll be happy to hear he’s only in 
for a trifle. Five thousand pound is, I think, 
pretty near the mark.” 

“Five thousand pounds ! — confusion !” says 
my lord, clasping his hands, and looking up to 
heaven, “and I have not five hundred ! Dearest 
Matilda, how shall we help him ?” 

“Alas, my lord, I have but three guineas, and 
you know how Lady Griffin has the ” 

“Yes, my sweet child, I know what you would 
say ; but be of good cheer — Algernon, you know, 
has ample funds of his own.” 

Thinking my lord meant Dawkins’ five thou- 
sand, of which, to be sure, a good lump was left, 
I held my tung ; but I cooden help wondering at 
Lord Crabs’ igstream compashn for his son, and 
Miss, with her 10,000Z. a year, having only 3 
guineas in her pockit. 

I took home (bless us, what a home?) a long 


174 The Yellowplush Papers. 

and very inflamble letter from Miss, in which 
she dixscribed her own sorror at the disappoint- 
ment ; swoar she lov’d him only the moar for his 
misfortns ; made light of them ; as a pusson for 
a paltry sum of five thousand pound ought never 
to be cast down, ’specially as he had a certain in- 
dependence in view; and vowed that nothing, 
nothing, should ever injuice her to part from 
him, etsettler, etsettler. 

I told master of the conversation which had 
past betwigst me and my lord, and of his hand- 
some offers, and his horrow at hearing of his 
son’s being taken ; and likewise mentioned how 
strange it was that Miss should only have 3 
guineas, and with such a fortn : bless us, I should 
have thot that she would always have carried a 
hundred thowsnd lb. in her pockit ! 

At this master only said Pshaw! But the 
rest of the story about his father seemed to dix- 
quiet him a good deal, and he made me repeat 
it over agin. 

He walked up and down the room agytated, 
and it seam’d as if a new lite was breaking in 
upon him. 

“Chawls,” says he, “did you observe — did 
Miss — did my father seem particularly intimate 
. with Miss Griffin?” 

“How do you mean, sir ?” says I. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 175 

“Did Lord Crabs appear very fond of Miss 
Griffin?” 

“He was suttnly very kind to her.” 

“Come, sir, speak at once: did Miss Griffin 
seem very fond of his lordship ?” 

“Why, to tell the truth, sir, I must say she 
seemed very fond of him.” 

“What did he call her?” 

“He called her his dearest gal.” 

“Did he take her hand ?” 

“Yes, and he ” 

“And he what ?” 

“He kist her, and told her not to be so wery 
down-hearted about the misfortn which had 
hapnd to you.” 

“I have it now!” says he, clinching his fist, 
and growing gashly pail — “I have it now — the 
infernal old hoary scoundrel ! the wicked, un- 
natural wretch ! He would take her from me !” 
And he poured out a volley of oaves which are 
impossbill to be repeatid here. 

I thot as much long ago : and when my lord 
kem with his vizits so pretious affeckshnt at my 
Lady Griffinses, I expected some such game was 
in the wind. Indeed, I’d heard a somethink 
of it from the Griffinses servnts, that my lord 
was mighty tender with the ladies. 

One thing, however, was evident to a man of 


176 The Yellowplush Papers. 

his intleckshal capassaties ; he must either mar- 
ry the gal at onst, or he stood very small chance 
of having her. He must get out of limbo im- 
mediantly, or his respectid father might be 
stepping into his vaykint shoes. Oh! he saw 
it all now — the fust attempt at arest, the mar- 
ridge fixt at 12 o’clock, and the bayliffs fixt to 
come and intarup the marridge ! — the jewel, 
praps, betwigst him and De l’Orge: but no, it 
was the woman who did that — a man don’t deal 
such fowl blows, igspecially a father to his son : 
a woman may, poar thing! — she’s no other 
means of reventch, and is used to fight with un- 
derhand wepns all her life through. 

Well, whatever the pint might be, this Deuce- 
ace saw pretty clear that he’d been beat by his 
father at his own game — a trapp set for him 
onst, which had been defitted by my presnts of 
mind — another trap set afterwids, in which my 
lord had been suxesfle. Now, my lord, roag as 
he was, was much too good-natured to do an un- 
kind ackshn, mearly for the sake of doing it. 
He’d got to that pich that he didn’t mind inja- 
ries — they were all fair play to him — he gave 
’em, and reseav’d them, without a thought of 
mallis. If he wanted to injer his son, it was to 
benefick himself. And how was this to be done ? 
By getting the hairiss to himself, to be sure. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


177 


The Honrabble Mr. D. didn’t say so ; but I knew 
his feelinx well enough — he regretted that he 
had not given the old genlmn the money he 
askt for. 

Poar f ello ! he thought he had hit it ; but he 
was wide of the mark after all. 

Well, but what was to be done? It was clear 
that he must marry the gal at any rate — cootky 
coot , as the French say : that is, marry her, and 
hang the igspence. 

To do so he must first git out of prisn — to get 
out of prisn he must pay his debts — and to pay 
his debts, he must give every shilling he was 
worth. Never mind : four thousand pound is 
a small stake to a reglar gambler, igspecially 
when he must play it, or rot for life in prisn ; 
and when, if he plays it well, it will give him ten 
thousand a year. 

So, seeing there was no help for it, he maid up 
his mind, and accordingly wrote the follying 
letter to Miss Griffin 

“My Adored Matilda — Your letter has indeed 
been a comfort to a poor fellow, who had hoped 
that this night would have been the most blessed 
in his life, and now finds himself condemned to 
spend it within a prison wall! You know the ac- 
cursed conspiracy which has brought these liabil- 
ities upon me, and the foolish friendship which 


178 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


has cost me so much. But what matters! We 
have, as you say, enough, even though I must pay 
this shameful demand upon me; and five thousand 
pounds are as nothing, compared to the happiness 
which I lose in being separated a night from thee! 
Courage, however. If I make a sacrifice it is for 
you; and I were heartless indeed if I allowed 
my own losses to balance for a moment against 
your happiness. 

“Is it not so, beloved one? Is not your happiness 
bound up with mine, in a union with me? I am 
proud to think so — proud, too, to offer such a hum- 
ble proof as this of the depth and purity of my af- 
fection. 

“Tell me that you will still be mine; tell me 
that you will be mine to-morrow; and to-morrow 
these vile chains shall be removed, and I will be 
free once more — or if bound, only bound to you! 
My adorable Matilda! my betrothed bride! write 
to me ere the evening closes, for I shall never be 
able to shut my eyes in slumber upon my prison 
couch until they have been first blessed by the 
sight of a few words from thee! Write to me, 
love! write to me! I languish for the reply which 
is to make or mar me for ever. 

“Your affectionate 

“A. P. D.” 

Having polisht off this epistol, master intrust- 
id it to me to carry, and bade me at the same 
time to try and give it into Miss Griffin’s hand 
alone. I ran with it to Lady Griffinses. I 
found Miss, as I desired, in a sollatary condi- 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


m 


tion; and I presented her with master’s pa- 
fewmed Billy. 

She read it, and the number of size to which 
she gave vint, and the tears which she shed,, 
beggar digscription. She wep and sighed until 
I thought she would bust. She even claspt my 
hand in her’s, and said, “0 Charles ! is he very, 
very miserable?” 

“He is, ma’am,” says I; “very miserable in- 
deed — nobody, upon my honor, could be miser- 
ablerer.” 

On hearing this pethetic remark, her mind 
was made up at onst : and sitting down to her 
eskrewtaw, she immediantly ableaged master 
with an answer. Here it is in black and white : 

“My prisoned bird shall pine no more, but fly 
home to its nest in these arms! Adored Algernon, 
I will meet thee to-morrow, at the same place, at 
the same hour. Then, then, it will be impossible 
for aught but death to divide us. M. G.” 

This kind of flumry style comes, you see, of 
reading novvles, and cultivating littery pur- 
shuits in a small way. How much better is it 
10 be puffickly ignorant of the hart of writing, 
and to trust to the writing of the heart. This 
is my style: artyfiz I despise, and trust com- 
pleatly to natur : but revnong a no mootong , as 

our continential friends remark: to that nice 
12 


180 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


white sheep, Algernon Percy Deuceace, Exquire ; 
that wenrabble old ram, my Lord Crabs his 
father ; and that tender and dellygit young lamb, 
Miss Matilda Griffin. 

She had just foalded up into its proper trian- 
gular shape the noat transcribed abuff, and I 
was just on the point of saying, according to my 
master’s orders, “Miss, if you please, the Hon- 
rabble Mr. Deuceace would be very much 
ableaged to you to keep the seminary which is 

to take place to-morrow a profound se ,” 

when my master’s father entered, and I fell 
back to the door. Miss, without a word, rusht 
into his arms, burst into teers agin, as was her 
reglar way (it must be contest she was of a very 
mist constitution), and showing to him his son’s 
note, cried, “Look, my dear lord, how nobly your 
Algernon, our Algernon, writes to me. Who 
can doubt, after this, of the purity of his match- 
less affection?” 

My lord took the letter, read it, seamed a 
good deal amyoused, and returning it to its 
owner, said, very much to my surprise, “My 
dear Miss Griffin, he certainly does seem in 
earnest ; and if you choose to make this match 
without the consent of your mother-in-law, you 
know the consequences, and are of course your 
own mistress.” 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


1S1 


“Consequences ! — for shame, my lord ! A 
little money, more or less, what matters it to 
two hearts like ours ?” 

“Hearts are very pretty things, my sweet 
young lady, but Three-per-Cents. are better.” 

“Nay, have we not an ample income of our 
own, without the aid of Lady Griffin?” 

My lord shrugged his shoulders. “Be it so, 
my love,” says he. “I'm sure I can have no oth- 
er reason to prevent a union which is founded 
upon such disinterested affection.” 

And here the conversation dropt. Miss re- 
tired, clasping her hands, and making play with 
the whites of her i’s. My lord began trotting 
up and down the room, with his fat hands stuck 
in his britchis pockits, his countnince lighted 
up with igstream joy, and singing, to my inord- 
nit igstonishment : 

“See the conquering hero comes! 

Tiddy diddy doll— tiddydoll, doll, doll.” 

He began singing this song, and tearing up and 
down the room like mad. I stood amazd — 
a new light broke in upon me. He wasn’t 
going, then, to make love to Miss Griffin! 
Master might marry her ! Had she not got the 
for 

I say, I was just standing stock still, my eyes 


132 The Yellowplush Papers. 

fix t, my hands puppindicklar, my mouf wide 
open and these igstrordinary thoughts passing 
in my mind, when my lord having got to the 
last “doll” of his song, just as I came to the 
sillible “for” of my ventriloquism, or inward 
speech — we had eatch jest reached the pint dig- 
scribed, when the meditations of both were 
sudnly stopt, by my lord, in the midst of his 
singin and trottin match, coming bolt up against 
poar me, sending me up aginst one end of the 
room, himself flying back to the other: and it 
was only after considrabble agitation that we 
were at length restored to anything like a liqui- 
librium. 

“What, you here, you infernal rascal?” says 
my lord. 

“Your lordship’s very kind to notus me,” says 
I ; “I am here.” And I gave him a look. 

He saw I knew the whole game. 

And after whisling a bit, as was his habit 
when puzzled (I bleave he’d have only whisled 
if he had been told he was to be hanged in five 
minits), after whisling a bit, he stops sudnly, 
and coming up to me, says : 

“Hearkye, Charles, this marriage must take 
place to-morrow.” 

“Must it, sir?” says I; “now, for my part, I 
don’t think ” 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


185 


“Stop, my good fellow; if it does not take 
place, what do you gain ?” 

This stagger’d me. If it didn’t take place, I 
only lost a situation, for master had but just 
enough money to pay his detts; and it wooden 
suit my book to serve him in prisn or starving. 

“Well,” says my lord, “you see the force of 
my argument. Now, look here !” and he lugs 
out a crisp, fluttering, snowy hundred-pun 
note ! “If my son and Miss Griffin are mar- 
ried to-morrow, you shall have this ; and I will, 
moreover, take you into my service, and give 
you double your present wages.” 

Flesh and blood cooden bear it. “My lord,” 
says I, laying my hand upon my busm, “only 
give me security, and I’m yours for ever.” 

The old noblemin grin’d, and pattid me on 
the shoulder. “Right, my lad,” says he, “right 
— you’re a nice promising youth. Here is the 
best security.” And he pulls out his pockit- 
book, returns the hundred-pun bill, and takes 
out one for fifty. “Here is half to-day; to- 
morrow you shall have the remainder.” 

My fingers trembled a little as I took the 
pretty fluttering bit of paper, about five times 
as big as any sum of money I had ever had in 
my life. I cast my i upon the amount : it was 
a fifty sure enough — a bank poss-bill, made pay- 


184 The Yellowplush Papers. 

able to Leonora Emilia Griffin , and indorsed by 
her. The eat was out of the bag. Now, gentle 
reader, I spose you begin to see the game. 

“Recollect, from this day you are in my ser- 
vice.” 

“My lord, you overpoar me with your fa- 
viors.” 

“Go to the devil, sir,” says he: “do your 
duty, and hold your tongue.” 

And thus I went from the service of the Hon- 
orabble Algernon Deuceace to that of his exlnsy 
the Right Honorabble Earl of Crabs. 

****** 

On going back to prisn, I found Deuceace 
locked up in that oajus place to which his igs- 
travygansies had deservedly led him; and felt 
for him, I must say, a great deal of contemp. 
A raskle such as he — a swindler, who had robbed 
poar Dawkins of the means of igsistance; who 
had cheated his fellow-roag, Mr. Richard Blew- 
itt, and who was making a musnary marridge 
with a disgusting creacher like Miss Griffin, 
didn merit any compashn on my purt; and I 
determined quite to keep secret the suckm- 
stansies of my privit intervew with his exlnsy 
my presnt master. 

I gev him Miss Griffinses trianglar, which he 
read with a satasfied air. Then, turning to me. 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


185 


says he: “You gave this to Miss Griffin 
alone ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You gave her my message?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And you are quite sure Lord Crabs was not 
there when you gave either the message or the 
note ?” 

“Not there upon my honor,” says I. 

“Hang your honor, sir ! Brush my hat and 
coat, and go call a coach — do you hear?” 
****** 

I did as I was ordered; and on coming back 
found master in what’s called, I think, the 
greffe of the prisn. The officer in waiting had 
out a great register, and was talking to master 
in the French tongue, in coarse; a number of 
poar prisners were looking eagerly on. 

“Let us see, my lor,” says he; “the debt is 
98,700 francs; there are capture expenses, in- 
terest so much; and the whole sum amounts to 
a hundred thousand francs, moins 13.” 

Deuceace, in a very myjestic way, takes out 
of his pocket-book four thowsnd pun notes. 
“This is not French money, but I presume that 
you know it, M. Greffier,” says he. 

The greffier turned round to old Solomon, a 
money-changer, who had one or two clients in 


186 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


the prisn, and hapnd luckily to be there. “Les 
billets sontbons,” says he. “ J e les prendrai pour 
cent mille deux cents francs, et j’espere, my lor, 
de vous revoir.” 

“Good,” says the greffier ; “I know them to be 
good, and I will give my lor the difference, and 
make out his release.” 

Which was done. The poar debtors gave a 
feeble cheer, as the great dubble iron gates swung 
open and clang to again, and Deuceace stepped 
out, and me after him, to breathe the fresh hair. 

He had been in the place but six hours, and 
was now free again — free, and to be married to 
ten thousand a year nex day. But, for all that, 
he lookt very faint and pale. He had put down 
his great stake ; and when he came out of Sainte 
Pelagie, he had but fifty pounds left in the 
world ! 

Never mind — when onst the money’s down, 
make your mind easy; and so Deuceace did. 
He drove back to the Hotel Mirabew, where he 
ordered apartmince infinately more splendid 
than bef or ; and I pretty soon told Toinette, and 
the rest of the suvvants, how nobly he behayved, 
and how he valyoud four thousnd pound no 
more than ditch water. And such was the cons- 
quincies of my praises, and the poplarity I got 
for us boath, that the delighted landlady imme- 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


187 


diantly charged him dubble what she would have 
done, if it hadn been for my stoaries. 

He ordered splendid apartmince, then, for 
the nex week ; a carridge-and-four for Fontaine- 
bleau to-morrow at 12 precisely; and having 
settled all these things, went quietly to the 
“Roshy de Cancale,” where he dined: as well 
he might, for it was now eight o’clock. I didn’t 
spare the shompang neither that night, I can 
tell you; for when I carried the note he gave 
me for Miss Griffin in the evening, informing 
her of his freedom, that young lady remarked 
my hagitated manner of walking and speaking, 
and said, “Honest Charles ! he is flusht with the 
events of the day. Here, Charles, is a napoleon ; 
take it and drink to your mistress.” 

I pockitid it; but, I must say, I didn’t like 
the money — it went against my stomick to 
take it. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE MARRIAGE. 

Well, the nex day came: at 12 the carridge- 
and-four was waiting at the ambasdor’s doar; 
and Miss Griffin and the faithfle Kicksey were 
punctial to the apintment. 


188 The Yellowplush Papers. 

I don’t wish to digscribe the marridge semi- 
nary — how the embasy chapling jined the hands 
of this loving young couple — how one of the 
embasy footmin was called in to witness the 
marridge — how Miss wep and fainted, as usial 
— and how Deuceace carried her, fainting, to the 
brisky, and drove off to Fontingblo, where they 
were to pass the fust weak of the honey-moon. 
They took no servnts, because they wisht, they 
said, to be privit. And so, when I had shut up 
the steps, and bid the postilion drive on, I bid 
a jew to the Honrabble Algernon, and went off 
strait to his exlent father. 

“Is it all over, Chawls ?” said he. 

“I saw them turned off at igsackly a quarter 
past 12, my lord,” says I. 

“Did you give Miss Griffin the paper, as I 
told you, before her marriage ?” 

“I did, my lord, in the presents of Mr. Brown, 
Lord Bobtail’s man ; who can swear to her hav- 
ing had it.” 

I must tell you that my lord had made me 
read a paper which Lady Griffin had written, 
and which I was comishnd to give in the manner 
menshnd abuff . It ran to this effect : — 

“According to the authority given me by the will 
of my late dear husband, I forbid the marriage of 
Miss Griffin with the Honorable Algernon Percy 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


189 


Deuceace. If Miss Griffin persists in the union, I 
warn her that she must abide by the consequences 
of her act. Leonora Emilia Griffin. 

“Rue de Rivoli, May 8, 1818.” 

When I gave this to Miss as she entered the 
cortyard, a minnit before my master’s arrivle, 
she only read it contemptiously, and said, “I 
laugh at the threats of Lady Griffin;” and she 
toar the paper in two, and walked on, leaning on 
the arm of the faithful and obleaging Miss 
Kicksey. 

I picked up the paper for fear of axdents, 
and brot it to my lord. Not that there was 
any necessaty; for he’d kep a copy, and made 
me and another witniss (my Lady Griffin’s so- 
lissator) read them both, before he sent either 
away. 

“Good !” says he ; and he projuiced from his 
portfolio the fello of that bewchus fifty-pun 
note, which he’d given me yesterday. “I keep 
my promise, you see, Charles,” says he. “You 
are now in Lady Griffin’s service, in the place of 
Mr. Fitzclarence, who retires. Go to Froje’s, 
and get a livery.” 

“But, my lord,” says I, “I was not to go into 
Lady Griffinses service, according to the bargain, 
but into ” 

“It’s all the same thing,” says he; and he 


190 The Yellowplush Papers. 

walked off. I went to Mr. Froje’s, and ordered 
a new livry ; and found, likwise, that our coach- 
min and Munseer Mortimer had been there 
too. My lady’s livery was changed, and was now 
of the same color as my old coat at Mr. Deuce- 
ace’s ; and I’m blest if there wasn’t a tremenjious 
great earl’s corronit on the butins, instid of the 
Griffin rampint, which was worn befoar. 

I asked no questions, however, but had myself 
measured; and slep that night at the Plas Van- 
dome. I didn’t go out with the carridge for a 
day or two, though; my lady only taking one 
footmin, she said, until her new carridge was 
turned out. 

I think you can guess what’s in the wind now ! 

I bot myself a dressing-case, a box of Ody 
colong, a few duzen lawn sherts and neckcloths, 
and other things which were necessary for a 
genlmn in my rank. Silk stockings was pro- 
vided by the rules of the house. And I com- 
pleted the bisniss by writing the follying ginteel 
letter to my late master: — 

CHARLES YELLOWPLUSH, ESQUIRE, TO THE 
HONORABLE A. P. DEUCEACE. 

“Sur — S uckmstansies have acurd sins I last had 
the honner of waiting on you, which render it im- 
possbil that I should remane any longer in your 


Mr. Deuceaee at Paris. 191 

suvvice. I’ll thank you to leave out my thinx, 
when they come home on Sattaday from the wash. 

“Your obeajnt servnt, 

“Charles Yellowplush. 

“Plas Vendome.” 

The athography of the abuv noat, I confess, is 
atrocious; but ke voolyvoo ? I was only eigh- 
teen, and hadn then the expearance in writing 
which I’ve enjide sins. 

Having thus done my jewty in evry way, I 
shall prosead, in the nex chapter, to say what 
hapnd in my new place. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE HONEY-MOON. 

The weak at Fontingblow past quickly away ; 
and at the end of it, our son and daughter-in- 
law — a pair of nice young tuttle-duvs — re- 
turned to their nest, at the Hotel Mirabew. I 
suspeck that the cock turtle-dove was preshos 
sick of his barging. 

When they arriv’d, the fust thing they found 
on their table was a large parsle wrapt up in 
silver paper, and a newspaper, and a couple of 
cards, tied up with a peace of white ribbing. 
In the parsle was a hansume piece of plum-cake, 


192 The Yellowplush Papers. 

with a deal of sugar. On the cards was wrote, 
in Goffick characters : 



And in the paper was the following parrow- 
graff : — 


MARRIAGE IN HIGH LIFE. 

“Yesterday, at the British embassy, the Right 
Honorable John Augustus Altamont Plantagenet, 
Earl of Crabs, to Leonora Emilia, widow of the 
late Lieutenant General Sir George Griffin, K. C. 
B. An elegant ddjeuner was given to the happy 
couple by his Excellency Lord Bobtail, who gave 
away the bride. The elite of the foreign diplomacy, 
the Prince Talleyrand and Marshal the Duke of 
Dalmatia on behalf of H. M. the King of France, 
honored the banquet and the marriage ceremony. 
Lord and Lady Crabs intend passing a few weeks 
at Saint Cloud.” 

The above dockyments, along with my own 
triffling billy, of which I have also givn a copy, 
greated Mr. and Mrs. Deuceace on their arrivle 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


193 


from Fontingblo. Not being present, I can’t 
say what Deuceace said ; but I can fancy how he 
looJct, and how poor Mrs. Deuceace lookt. They 
weren’t much inclined to rest after the fiteeg 
of the junny; for, in -J an hour after their ar- 
rival at Paris, the hosses were put to the car- 
ridge agen, and down they came thundering to 
our country-house at St. Cloud (pronounst by 
those absud Frenchmin Sing Kloo), to inter- 
rup our chaste loves and delishs marridge injy- 
ments. 

My lord was sittn in a crimson satan dressing- 
gown, lolling on a sofa at an open windy, smoak- 
ing seagars, as ushle; her ladyship, who, to du 
her justice, didn mind the smell, occupied anoth- 
er end of the room, and was working, in wusted, 
a pare of slippers, or an umbrellore case, or a 
coal-skittle, or some such nonsints. You would 
have thought to have sean ’em that they had 
been married a sentry, at least. Well, I bust in 
upon this conjugal tator-tator , and said, very 
much alarmed, “My lord, here’s your son and 
daughter-in-law.” 

“Well,” says my lord, quite calm, “and what 
then ?” 

“Mr. Deuceace!” says my lady, starting up, 
and looking fritened. 

“Yes, my love, my son; but you need not be 


194 The Yellowplush Papers. 

alarmed. Pray, Charles, say that Lady Crabs 
and I will be very happy to see Mr. and Mrs. 
Deuceace ; and that they must excuse us receiv- 
ing them en famille. Sit still, my blessing — 
take things coolly. Have you got the box with 
the papers?” 

My lady pointed to a great green box — the 
same from which she had taken the papers, when 
Deuceace fust saw them, — and handed over to 
my lord a fine gold key. I went out, met 
Deuceace and his wife on the stepps, gave my 
messinge, and bowed them palitely in. 

My lord didn’t rise, but smoaked away as 
usual (praps a little quicker, but I can’t say) ; 
my lady sat upright, looking handsum and 
strong. Deuceace walked in, his left arm tied 
to his breast, his wife and hat on the other. He 
looked very pale and frightened ; his wife, poar 
thing! had her head berried in her handker- 
chief, and sobd fit to break her heart. 

Miss Kicksey, who was in the room (but I 
didn’t mention her, she was less than nothink 
in our house), went up to Mrs. Deuceace at 
oust, and held out her arms — she had a heart, 
that old Kicksey, and I respect her for it. The 
poor hunchback flung herself into Miss’s arms, 
with a kind of whooping screech, and kep there 
for some time, sobbing in quite a historical 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


195 


manner. I saw there was going to be a sean, 
and so, in cors, left the door ajar. 

“Welcome to Saint Cloud, Algy, my boy!” 
says my lord, in a loud, hearty voice. “You 
thought you would give us the slip, eh, you 
rogue? But we knew it, my dear fellow: we 
knew the whole affair — did we not, my soul ? — 
and you see, kept our secret better than you did 
yours.” 

“I must confess, sir,” says Deuceace, bow- 
ing, “that I had no idea of the happiness 
which awaited me in the shape of a mother-in- 
law.” 

“No, you dog; no, no,” says my lord, gig- 
gling: “old birds, you know, not to be caught 
with chaff, like young ones. But here we are, 
all spliced and happy at last. Sit down, Al- 
gernon ; let us smoke a segar, and talk over the 
perils and adventures of the last month. My 
love,” says my lord, turning to his lady, “you 
have no malice against poor Algernon, I trust ? 
Pray shake his hand ” (A grin.) 

But my lady rose and said, “I have told Mr. 
Deuceace, that I never wished to see him, or to 
speak to him, more. I see no reason, now, to 
change my opinion.” And herewith she sailed 
out of the room, by the door through which 
Kicksey had carried poor Mrs. Deuceace. 

13 


196 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


“Well, well,” says my lord, as Lady Crabs 
swept by, “I was in hopes she had forgiven you ; 
but I know the whole story, and I must confess 
you used her cruelly ill. Two strings to your 
bow ! — that was your game, was it, you rogue ?'” 

“Do you mean, my lord, that you know all that 
past between me and Lady Grif — Lady Crabs, 
before our quarrel?” 

“Perfectly — you made love to her, and she 
was almost in love with you ; you jilted her for 
money, she got a man to shoot your hand off in 
revenge: no more dice-boxes, now, Deuceace; 
no more sauter la coupe. I can’t think how the 
deuce you will manage to live without them.” 

“Your lordship is very kind ; but I have given 
up play altogether,” says Deuceace, looking 
mighty black and uneasy. 

“Oh, indeed ! Benedick has turned a moral 
man, has he? This is better and better. Are 
you thinking of going into the church, Deuiie- 
ace?” 

“My lord, may I ask you to be a little mo-e 
serious ?” 

“Serious.! a quoi bon? I am serious — serious 
in my surprise that, when you might have had 
either of these women, you should have preferred 
that hideous wife of yours.” 

“May I ask you, in turn, how you came tn bb 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


197 


so little squeamish about his wife, as to choose a 
woman who had just been making love to your 
own son ?” says Deuceace, growing fierce. 

“How can you ask such a question? I owe 
forty thousand pounds — there is an execution 
at Sizes Hall — every acre I have is in the hands 
of my creditors; and that’s why I married her. 
Do you think there was any love ? Lady Crabs 
is a dev’lish fine woman, but she’s not a fool — 
she married me for my coronet, and I married 
her for her money.” 

“Well, my lord, you need not ask me, I think, 
why I married the daughter-in-law.” 

“Yes, but I do, my dear boy. How the deuce 
are you to live? Dawkins’s five thousand 
pounds won’t last for ever ; and afterwards ?” 

“You don’t mean, my lord — you don’t — I 
mean, you can’t — D — !” says he, starting up, 
and losing all patience, “you don’t dare to say 
that Miss Griffin had not a fortune of ten thou- 
sand a year ?” 

My lord was rolling up, and wetting betwigst 
his lips, another segar ; he lookt up, after he had 
lighted it, and said quietly — 

“Certainly, Miss Griffin had a fortune of ten 
thousand a year.” 

“Well, sir, and has she not got it now? Has 
she spent it in a week?” 


198 The Yellowplush Papers. 

“She has not got a sixpence now: she married 
without her mother's consent !” 

Deuceace sunk down in a chair; and I never 
see such a dreadful picture of despair as there 
was in the face of that retchid man ! he writhed 
and nasht his teeth, he tore open his coat, 
and wriggled madly the stump of his left hand, 
until, fairly beat, he threw it over his livid 
pale face, and sinking backwards, fairly wept 
alowd. 

Bah ! it’s a dreddfle thing to hear a man cry- 
ing ! his pashn torn up from the very roots of his 
heart, as it must be before it can git such a vent. 
My lord, meanwhile, rolled his segar, lighted it, 
and went on. 

“My dear boy, the girl has not a shilling. I 
wished to have left you alone in peace, with 
your four thousand pounds; you might have 
lived decently upon it in Germany, where money 
is at 5 per cent., where your duns would not 
find you, and a couple of hundred a year would 
have kept you and your wife in comfort. But, 
you see, Lady Crabs would not listen to it. You 
had injured her ; and, after she had tried to kill 
you and failed, she determined to ruin you, and 
succeeded. I must own to you that I directed 
the arresting business, and put her up to buying 
your protested bills : she got them for a trifle, 


Mr. Deueeace at Paris. 


199 


and as you have paid them, has made a good two 
thousand pounds by her bargain. It was a 
painful thing to be sure, for a father to get his 
son arrested; but que voulez-vous ? I did not 
appear in the transaction; she would have you 
ruined ; and it was absolutely necessary that you 
should marry before I could, so I pleaded your 
cause with Miss Griffin, and made you the happy 
man you are. You rogue, you rogue! you 
thought to match your old father, did you ? But 
never mind; lunch will be ready soon. In the 
meantime, have a segar, and drink a glass of 
Sauterne.” 

Deueeace, who had been listening to this 
speech, sprung up wildly. 

‘Til not believe it,” he said: “it’s a lie, an 
infernal lie! forged by you, you hoary villain, 
and by the murderess and strumpet you have 
married. Fll not believe it : show me the will. 
Matilda! Matilda!” shouted he, screaming 
hoarsely, and flinging open the door by which 
she had gone out. 

“Keep your temper, my boy. You are vexed, 
and I feel for you : but don’t use such bad lan- 
guage : it is quite needless, believe me.” 

“Matilda!” shouted out Deueeace again; and 
the poor crooked thing came trembling in, fol- 
lowed by Miss Kicksey. 


200 The Yellowplush Papers. 

“Is this true, woman ?” says he, clutching hold 
of her hand. 

“What, dear Algernon ?” says she. 

“What?” screams out Deuceace, — “what? 
Why, that you are a beggar, for marrying with- 
out your mother’s consent — that you basely lied 
to me, in order to bring about this match — that 
you are a swindler, in conspiracy with that old 
fiend yonder and the she-devil his wife?” 

“It is true,” sobbed the poor woman, “that I 
have nothing; but ” 

“Nothing but what? Why don’t you speak, 
you drivelling fool?” 

“I have nothing ! — but you, dearest, have two 
thousand a year. Is that not enough for us? 
You love me for myself, don’t you, Algernon? 
You have told me so a thousand times — say so 
again, dear husband ; and do not, do not be so 
unkind.” And here she sank on her knees, and 
clung to him, and tried to catch his hand, and 
kiss it. 

“How much did you say ?” says my lord. 

“Two thousand a year, sir ; he has told us so 
a thousand times.” 

“Two thousand! Two thou — ho, ho, ho! — 
haw, haw, haw!” roars my lord. “That is, I 
vow, the best thing I ever heard in mv life. My 
dear creature, he has not a shilling — not a sin- 


Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


201 


ble maravedi, by all the gods and goddesses.” 
And this exlnt noblemin began laffin louder than 
ever: a very kind and feeling genlmn he was, 
as all must confess. 

There was a paws: and Mrs. Deuceace didn 
begin cussing and swearing at her husband as 
he had done at her : she only said, “0 Algernon ! 
is this true?” and got up, and went to a chair 
and wep in quiet. 

My lord opened the great box. "If you or 
your lawyers would like to examine Sir George’s 
will, it is quite at your service ; you will see here 
the proviso which I mentioned, that gives the 
entire fortune to Lady Griffin — Lady Crabs that 
is : and here, my dear boy, you see the danger of 
hasty conclusions. Her ladyship only showed 
you the first page of the will , of course; she 
wanted to try you. You thought you made a 
great stroke in at once proposing to Miss Griffin 
— do not mind it, my love, he really loves you 
now very sincerely ! — when, in fact, you would 
have done much better to have read the rest of 
the will. You were completely bitten, my boy 
— humbugged, bamboozled — ay, and by your old 
father, you dog. I told you I would, you know, 
when you refused to lend me a portion of your 
Dawkins money. I told you I would; and I 
did. I had you the very next day. Let this be 


202 The Yellowplush Papers. 

a lesson to you, Percy my boy; don’t try your 
luck again against such old hands ; look deuced 
well before you leap : audi alteram partem , my 
lad, which means, read both sides of the will. 
I think lunch is ready; but I see you don’t 
smoke. Shall we go in ?” 

“Stop, my lord,” says Mr. Deuceace, very 
humble : “I shall not share your hospitality — 
but — but you know my condition; I am penni- 
less — you know the manner in which my wife 

has been brought up ” 

“The Honorable Mrs. Deuceace, sir, shall 
always find a home here, as if nothing had oc- 
curred to interrupt the friendship between her 
dear mother and herself.” 

“And for me, sir,” says Deuceace, speaking 
faint, and very slow ; “I hope — I trust — I think, 
my lord, you will not forget me.” 

“Forget you, sir; certainly not.” 

“And that you will make some provision ” 

“Algernon Deuceace,” says my lord, getting 
up from the sophy, and looking at him with sich 
a jolly malignity, as I never see, “I declare, be- 
fore heaven, that I will not give you a penny !” 

Hereupon my lord held out his hand to Mrs. 
Deuceace, and said, “My dear, will you join your 
mother and me? We shall always, as I said, 
have a home for you.” 



( 203 ) 


























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' 














■ 




















































Mr. Deuceace at Paris. 


205 


“My lord,” said the poar thing, dropping a 
curtsy, “my home is with him!” 


About three months after, when the season 
was beginning at Paris, and the autumn leafs 
was on the ground, my lord, my lady, me and 
Mortimer, were taking a stroal in the Boddy 
Balong, the carridge driving on slowly ahead, 
and us as happy as possbill, admiring the pleas- 
ant woods and the goldn sunset. 

My lord was expayshating to my lady upon 
the exquizit beauty of the sean, and pouring 
forth a host of butifle and virtuous sentaments 
sootable to the hour. It was dalitefle to hear 
him. “Ah !” said he, “black must be the heart, 
my love, which does not feel the influence of a 
scene like this ; gathering as it were, from those 
sunlit skies, a portion of their celestial gold, and 
gaining somewhat of heaven with each pure 
draught of this delicious air !” 

Lady Crabs did not speak, but prest his arm 
and looked upwards. Mortimer and I, too, felt 
some of the infliwents of the sean, and lent on 
our goold sticks in silence. The carriage drew 
up close to us, and my lord and my lady saun- 
tered slowly tords it. 

Jest at the place was a bench, and on the bench 
sat a poorly drest woman, and by her, leaning 


206 The Yellowplush Papers. 

against a tree, was a man whom I thought I’d 
sean befor. He was drest in a shabby blew coat, 
with white seems and copper buttons ; a torn hat 
was on his head, and great quantaties of matted 
hair and whiskers disfiggared his countnints. 
He was not shaved, and as pale as stone. 

My lord and lady didn tak the slightest notice 
of him, but past on to the carridge. Me and 
Mortimer lickwise took our places. As we past, 
the man had got a grip on the woman’s shoulder, 
who was holding down her head sobbing bit- 
terly. 

No sooner were my lord and lady seated, than 
they both, with igstream dellixy and good natur, 
bust into a ror of lafter, peal upon peal, whoop- 
ing and screaching enough to frighten the even- 
ing silents. 

Deuceace turned round. I see his face now 
— the face of a devvle of hell ! Fust, he lookt 
towards the carridge, and pinted to it with his 
maimed arm; then he raised the other, and 
struck the woman by his side. She fell, scream- 
ing. 

Poor thing ! Poor thing ! 


MR. YELLOWPLUSH’S AJEW. 


The end of Mr. Deuceace’s history is going to 
be the end of my corrispondince. I wish the 
public was as sory to part with me as I am with 
the public; becaws I fansy reely that we've be- 
come frends, and feal for my part a becoming 
greaf at saying a jew. 

It's imposbill for me to continyow, however, 
a-writin, as I have done — violetting the rules of 
authography, and trampling upon the fust prin- 
cepills of English grammar. When I began, I 
knew no better : when I'd carrid on these papers 
a little further, and grew accustmd to writin, I 
began to smel out somethink quear in my style. 
Within the last sex weaks I have been learning 
to spell : and when all the world was rejoicing 
at the festivvaties of our youthful Quean — * 
when all i's were fixt upon her long sweet of 
ambasdors and princes, following the splendid 
carridge of Marshle the Duke of Damlatiar, and 
blinking at the pearls and dimince of Prince 
Oystereasy — Yellowplush was in his loanly pan- 


* This was written in 1838. 


207 


208 The Yellowplush Papers. 

try — his eyes were fixt upon the spelling-book — 
his heart was bent upon mastring the diffickle- 
ties of the littery professhn. I have been, in 
fact, convertid. 

You shall here how. Ours, you know, is a 
Wig house; and ever sins his third son has got a 
place in the Treasury, his secknd a captingsy in 
the Guards, his fust, the secretary of embasy at 
Pekin, with a prospick of being appinted ambas- 
dor Loo Choo — ever sins master’s sons have 
reseaved these attentions, and master himself 
has had the promis of a pearitch, he has been the 
most reglar, consistnt, honrabble Libbaral, in or 
out of the House of Commins. 

Well, being a Whig, it’s the fashn, as you 
know, to reseave littery pipple ; and accordingly, 
at dinner, tother day, whose name do you think 
I had to hollar out on the fust landing-place 
about a wick ago? After several dukes and 
markises had been enounced, a very gentell fly 
drives up to our doar, and out steps two gentle- 
men. One was pail, and wor spektickles, a wig, 
and a white neckcloth. The other was slim 
with a hook nose, a pail fase, a small waist, a 
pare of falling shoulders, a tight coat, and a 
catarack of black satting tumbling out of his 
busm, and falling into a gilt velvet weskit. 
The little genlmn settled his wigg, and pulled 


Mr. Yellowplush’s A jew. 


209 


out his ribbins ; the younger one fluffed the dust 
of his shoos, looked at his wiskers in a little 
pockit-glass, settled his crevatt; and they both 
mounted up stairs. 

“What name, sir ?” says I, to the old genlmn. 

“Name ! — a ! now, you thief o’ the wurrld,” 
says he, “do you pretind nat to know me ? Say 
it’s the Cabinet Cyclopa — no, I mane the Lith- 
erary Chran — psha! — bluthanowns ! — say it’s 
Docthor Dioclesian Larner — I think he'll 
know me now — ay, Nid?” But the genlmn 
called Nid was at the botm of the stare, and 
pretended to be very busy with his shoo-string. 
So the little genlmn went upstares alone. 

“Doctor Diolesius Larner !” says I. 

“Doctor Athanasius Lardner!” says Gre- 
ville Fitz-Roy, our secknd footman, on the fust 
landing-place. 

“Doctor Ignatius Loyola P says the groom 
of the chambers, who pretends to be a schollar; 
and in the little genlmn went. When safely 
housed, the other chap came ; and when I asked 
him his name, said, in a thick, gobbling kind of 
voice : 

“Sawedwadgeorgeearllittnbulwig.” 

“Sir what ?” says I, quite agast at the name. 

“Sawedwad — no, I mean Mistawe dwad Lyttn 
Bulwig.” 


210 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


My neas trembled under me, my i’s fild with 
tiers, my voice shook, as I past up the venrabble 
name to the other footman, and saw this fust of 
English writers go up to the drawing-room ! 

It’s needless to mention the names of the rest 
of the compny, or to dixcribe the suckmstansies 
of the dinner. Suffiz to say that the two littery 
genlmn behaved very well, and seamed to have 
good appytights ; igspecially the little Irishman 
in the whig, who et, drunk, and talked as much 
as | a duzn. He told how he’d been presented 
at cort by his friend, Mr. Bulwig, and how the 
Quean had received ’em both, with a dignity 
undigscribable ; and how her blessid Majisty 
asked what was the bony fidy sale of the Cabinit 
Cyclopasdy, and how he (Doctor Larner) told 
her that it was under ten thowsnd. 

You may guess that the Doctor, when he 
made this speach, was pretty far gone. The 
fact is, that whether it was the coronation, or 
the goodness of the wine (cappitle it is in our 
house, I can tell you), or the natrl propensaties 
of the gests assembled, which made them so 
igspecially jolly, I don’t know; but they had 
kep up the meating pretty late, and our poar 
butler was quite tired with the perpechual bas- 
kits of clarrit which he’d been called upon to 
bring up. So that about 11 o’clock, if I were 


Mr. Yellowplush’s A jew. 211 

to say they were merry, I should use a mild 
term; if I wer to say they were intawsicated, I 
should use an igspresshn more near to the truth, 
but less rispeckful in one of my situashn. 

The cumpany reseaved this annountsmint 
with mute extonishment. 

“Pray, Doctor Larnder,” says a spiteful 
genlmn, willing to keep up the littery conver- 
sation, “what is the Cabinet Cyclopaedia ?” 

“It’s the littherary wontherr of the wurrld,” 
says he ; “and sure your lordship must have seen 
it; the latther numbers ispieially — cheap as 
durrt, bound in gleezed calico, six shillings a 
vollum. The illusthrious neems of Walther 
Scott, Thomas Moore, Docther Southey, Sir 
James Mackintosh, Docther Donovan, and me- 
self, are to be found in the list of conthributors. 
It’s the Phaynix of Cyclopajies — a litherary 
Bacon.” 

“A what?” says the genlmn nex to him. 

“A Bacon, shining in the darkness of our age ; 
hid with the pure end lambent flame of science, 
burning with the gorrgeous scintillations of 
divine litherature — a monumintum , in fact, are 
perinnius, bound in pink calico, six shillings a 
vollum.” 

“This wigmawole,” said Mr. Bulwig (who 
seemed rather disgusted that his friend should 
14 


212 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


take up so much of the convassation), “this 
wigmawole is all vewy well; but it’s cuwious 
that you don’t wemember, in chawactewising the 
litewawy mewits of the vawious magazines, 
cwonicles, weviews, and encyclopaedias, the ex- 
istence of a cwitical weview and litewawy chwon- 
icle, which, though the aewa of its appeawance 
is dated only at a vewy few months pwevious 
to the pwesent pewiod, is, nevertheless, so we- 
markable for its intwinsic mewits as to be wead, 
not in the metwopolis alone, but in the coun- 
twy — not in Fwance merely, but in the west of 
Euwope — whewever our pure Wenglish is 
spoken, it stwetches its peaceful sceptre — pe- 
wused in Amewica, fwom New York to Niagawa 
— wepwinted in Canada, fwom Montweal to 
Towonto — and, as I am gwatified to hear fwom 
my fwend the governor of Cape Coast Castle, 
wegularly weceived in Afwica, and twanslated 
into the Mandingo language by the mission- 
awies and the btishwangers. I need not say, 
gentlemen — sir — that is, Mr. Speaker — I mean, 
Sir John — that I allude to the Litewawy Chwon- 
icle, of which I have the honor to be pwincipal 
contwibutor.” 

“Very true, my dear Mr. Bull-wig/'- says my 
master; “you and I being Whigs, must of course 
stand by our own friends ; and I will agree, 


Mr. Yellowplush’s A jew. 


213 


without a moment’s hesitation, that the Literary 
what-d’ye-call-’em is the prince of periodicals.” 

“The pwince of pewiodicals ?” says Bullwig; 
“my dear Sir John, it’s the empewow of the 
pwess.” 

“ Soit , — let it be the emperor of the press, as 
you poetically call it: but, between ourselves, 
confess it, — Do not the Tory writers beat your 
Whigs hollow? You talk about magazines. 
Look at ” 

“Look at what ?” shouts out Larder. “There’s 
none, Sir Jan, compared to ourrs.” 

“Pardon me, I think that ” 

“It is ‘Bentley’s Mislany’ you mane?” says 
Ignatius, as sharp as a niddle. 

“Why, no ; but ” * 

“0 thin, it’s Co’burn, sure; and that divvle 
Thayodor — a pretty paper, sir, but light — 
thrashy, milk-and-wathery — not sthrong, like 
the Litherary Chran — good luck to it.” 

“Why, Doctor Larnder, I was going to tell at 
once the name of the periodical, — it is Fraser’s 
Magazine.” 

“Freser !” says the Doctor. “0 thunder and 
turf !” 

“Fwaser!” says Bullwig. “0 — ah — hum- 
haw — yes — no — why, — that is weally — no, weal- 
]y, upon my weputation, I never before heard the 


214 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


name of the pewiodical. By the by. Sir John, 
what wemarkable good clawet this is; is it La- 
wose or Laff ?” 

Laff, indeed ! he cooden git beyond laff ; and 
I’m blest if I could kip it neither, — for hearing 
him pretend ignurnts, and being behind the 
skreend, settlin sumthink for the genlmn, I bust 
into such a raw of laffing as never was igseeded. 

“Hullo !” says Bullwig, turning red. “Have 
I said anything impwobable, aw widiculous ? for, 
weally, I never befaw wecollect to have heard 
in society such a twemendous peal of eachinna- 
tion — that which the twagic bard who fought at 
Mawathon has called an ariewithmon gelasma 

“Why, be the holy piper/’ says Larder, “I 
think you are dthrawing a little on your imag- 
ination. Not read Fraser! Don’t believe him, 
my lord duke; he reads every word of it, the 
rogue! The boys about that magazine baste 
him as if he was a sack of oatmale. My reason 
for crying out. Sir Jan, was because you min- 
tioned Fraser at all. Bullwig has every syllable 
of it be heart — from the paillitix down to the 
‘Yellowplush Correspondence.’ ” 

“Ha, ha!” says Bullwig, affecting to laff (you 
may be sure my years prickt up when I heard the 
name of the “Yellowplush Correspondence”). 
“Ha, ha ! why, to tell twuth, I have wead the 


Mr. Yellowplush’s Ajew. 215 

cowespondence to which you allude : it’s a gweat 
favowite at court. I was talking with Spwing 
Wice and John Wussell about it the other day.” 

“Well, and what do you think of it?” says Sir 
John, looking mity waggish — for he knew it 
was me who roat it. 

“Why, weally and twuly, there’s considewable 
cleverness about the cweature; but it’s low, dis- 
gustingly low: it violates pwobability, and the 
orthogwaphy is so carefully inaccuwate, that it 
requires a positive study to compwehend it.” 

“Yes, faith,” says Larner; “the arthagraphy 
is detestible ; it’s as bad for a man to write bad 
spillin as it is for ’em to speak wid a brogue. 
Iducation furst, and ganius afterwards. Your 
health, my lord, and good luck to you.” 

“Yaw wemark,” says Bullwig, “is vewy ap- 
pwopwiate. You will wecollect, Sir John, in 
Hewodotus (as for you, Doctor, you know more 
about Iwish than about Gweek), — you will 
wecollect, without doubt, a stowy nawwated by 
that cwedulous though fascinating chwonicler, 
of a certain kind of sheep which is known only 
in a certain distwict of Awabia, and of which the 
tail is so enormous, that it either dwaggles on 
the gwound, or is bound up by the shepherds of 
the country into a small wheelbawwow, or cart, 
which makes the chwonicler sneewingly wemark 


216 The Yellowplush Papers. 

that thus ‘the sheep of Awabia have their own 
chawiots.’ I have often thought, sir, (this cla- 
wet is weally nectaweous) — I have often, I say, 
thought that the wace of man may be compawed 
to these Awabian sheep — genius is our tail, edu- 
cation our wheelbawwow. Without art and ed- 
ucation to pwop it, this genius dwops on the 
gwound, and is polluted by the mud, or Injured 
by the wocks upon the way : with the wheelbaw- 
wow it is stwengthened, incweased, and support- 
ed — a pwide to the owner, a blessing to man- 
kind.” 

“A very appropriate simile,” says Sir John; 
“and I’m afraid the genius of our friend Yellow- 
plush has need of some such support.” 

“Apropos,” said Bullwig, “who is Yellow- 
plush? I was given to understand that the 
name was only a fictitious one, and that the 
papers were written by the author of the ‘Diary 
of a Physician if so, the man has wonderfully 
improved in style, and there is some hope of 
him.” 

“Bah !” says the Duke of Doublejowl ; “every- 
body knows it’s Barnard, the celebrated author 
of ‘Sam Slick.’ ” 

“Pardon, my dear duke,” says Lord Bagwig; 
“it’s the authoress of ‘High Life,’ ‘Almack’s,’ 
and other fashionable novels.” 


Mr. Yellowplush’s Ajew. 217 

“Fiddlestick’s end !” says Doctor Larner ; 
“don’t be blushing and pretinding to ask ques- 
tions: don’t we know you, Bullwig? It’s you 
yourself, you thief of the world : we smoked you 
from the very beginning.” 

Bullwig was about indignantly to reply, when 
Sir John interrupted them, and said, — “I must 
correct you all, gentlemen; Mr. Yellowplush is 
no other than Mr. Yellowplush: he gave you, 
my dear Bullwig, your last glass of champagne 
at dinner, and is now an inmate of my house, 
and an ornament of my kitchen !” 

“Gad !” says Doublejowl, “let’s have him up.” 

“Hear, hear!” says Bagwig. 

“Ah, now,” says Larner, “your grace is not 
going to call up and talk to a footman, sure? 
Is it gintale?” 

“To say the least of it,” says Bullwig, “the 
pwactice is iwwegular, and indecowous; and I 
weally don’t see how the interview can be in any 
way pwofitable.” 

But the vices of the company went against the 
two littery men, and everybody excep them was 
for having up poor me. The bell was wrung; 
butler came. “Send up Charles,” says master ; 
and Charles, who was standing behind the 
skreand, was persnly abliged to come in. 

“Charles,” says master, “I have been telling 


218 The Yellowplush Papers.. 

these gentlemen who is the author of the c Yel- 
lowplush Correspondence’ in Fraser's Maga- 
zine 

“It’s the best magazine in Europe/’ says the 
duke. 

“And no- mistake/’ says my lord. 

“Hwhat!” says Larner; “and where’s the 
Litherary Chran ?” 

I said myself nothink, but made a bough, and 
blusht like pickle-cabbitch. 

“Mr. Yellowplush,” says his grace, “will you, 
in the first place, drink a glass of wine ?” 

I boughed agin. 

“And what wine do you prefer, sir? humble 
port or imperial burgundy?” 

“Why, your grace,” says I, “I know my place, 
and ain’t above kitchin wines. I will take a 
glass of port, and drink it to the health of this 
honrabble compny.” 

When I’d swigged off the bumper, which his 
grace himself did me the honor to pour out for 
me, there was a silints for a minnit ; when my 
master said : 

“Charles Yellowplush, I have perused your 
memoirs in Fraser's Magazine with so much 
curiosity, and have so high an opinion of your 
talents as a writer, that I really cannot keep you 
as a footman any longer, or allow you to dis- 


Mr. Yellowplush’s A jew. 219 

charge duties for which you are now quite unfit. 
With all my admiration for your talents, Mr. 
Yellowplush, I am still confident that many of 
your friends in the servants’ hall will clean my 
boots a great deal better than a gentleman of 
your genius can ever be expected to do — it is 
for this purpose I employ footmen, and not that 
they may be writing articles in magazines. But 
— you need not look so red, my good fellow, and 
had better take another glass of port — I don’t 
wish to throw you upon the wide world without 
the means of a livelihood, and have made inter- 
est for a little place which you will have under 
Government, and which will give you an income 
of eighty pounds per annum; which you can 
double, I presume, by your literary labors.” 

“Sir,” says I, clasping my hands, and busting 
into tears, “do not — for heaven’s sake, do not ! — 
think of any such think, or drive me from your 
suvvice, because I have been fool enough to 
write in magaseens. Gians but one moment at 
your honor’s plate — every spoon is as bright as 
a mirror; condysend to igsamine your shoes — 
your honor may see reflected in them the fases 
of every one in the company. I blacked them 
shoes, I cleaned that there plate. If occasion- 
ally I’ve forgot the footman in the litterary man, 
and committed to paper my remindicences of 


220 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


fashnabble life, it was from a sincere desire to 
do good, and promote nollitch : and I appeal to 
your honor — I lay my hand on my busm, and in 
the fase of this noble company beg you to say, 
When you rung your bell, who came to you fust ? 
When you stopt out at Brooke’s till morning, 
who sat up for you? When you was ill, who 
forgot the natral dignities of his station, and 
answered the two-pair bell? Oh, sir,” says I, 
“I know what’s what; don’t send me away. I 
know them littery chaps, and, beleave me, I’d 
rather be a footman. The work’s not so hard — 
the pay is better: the vittels incompyrably su- 
pearor. I have but to clean my things, and run 
my errints, and you put clothes on my back, and 
meat in my mouth. Sir ! Mr. Bullwig ! an’t I 
right ? Shall I quit my station and sink — that 
is to say, rise — to yours?” 

Bullwig was violently affected; a tear stood 
in his glistening i. “Yellowplush,” says he, 
seizing my hand, “you are right. Quit not your 
present occupation; black boots, clean knives, 
wear plush, all your life, but don’t turn literary 
man. Look at me. I am the first novelist in 
Europe. I have ranged with eagle wing over 
the wide regions of literature, and perched on 
every eminence in its turn. I have gazed with 
eagle eyes on the sun of philosophy, and fath- 


Mr. Yellowplush’s Ajew. -221 

omed the mysterious depths of the human mind. 
All languages are familiar to me, all thoughts 
are known to me, all men understood by me. 
I have gathered wisdom from the honeyed lips 
of Plato, as we wandered in the gardens of Aca- 
demes — wisdom, too, from the mouth of Job 
J ohnson, as we smoked our ’backy in Seven 
Dials. Such must be the studies, and such is 
the mission, in this world, of the Poet-Philos- 
opher. But the knowledge is only emptiness; 
the initiation is but misery ; the initiated, a man 
shunned and bann’d by his fellows. Oh,” said 
Bullwig, clasping his hands, and throwing his 
fine i’s up to the chandelier, “the curse of Pwo- 
metheus descends upon his wace. Wath and 
punishment pursue them from genewation to 
genewation ! Wo to genius, the heaven-scaler, 
the fire-stealer! Wo and thrice bitter desola- 
tion! Earth is the.wock on which Zeus, we- 
morseless, stwetches his withing victim — men, 
the vultures that feed and fatten on him. Ai, 
Ai ! it is agony eternal — gwoaning and solitawy 
despair! And you, Yellowplush, would pene- 
twate these mystewies: you would waise the 
awful veil, and stand in the twemendous Pwes- 
ence. Beware ; as you value your peace, beware ! 
Withdwaw, wash Neophyte ! For heaven’s sake 
— 0 for heaven’s sake !”■ — here he looked round 


222 


The Yellowplush Papers. 


with agony — “give me a glass of bwandy-and- 
water, for this clawet is beginning to disagwee 
with me.” 

Bullwig having concluded this spitch, very 
much to his own sattasfackshn, looked round to 
the compny for aplaws, and then swigged off the 
glass of brandy-and-water, giving a solium sigh 
as he took the last gulp ; and then Doctor Igna- 
tius, who longed for a chans, and, in order to 
show his independence, began flatly contradict- 
ing his friend, addressed me, and the rest of the 
genlmn present, in the following manner: 

“Hark ye,” says he, “my gossoon, doan’t be 
led asthray by the nonsinse of that divil of a 
Bullwig. He’s jillous of ye, my bhoy: that’s 
the rale, undoubted thruth ; and it’s only to keep 
you out of litherary life that he’s palavering you 
in this way. Fll tell you what — Plush, ye black- 
guard, — my honorable frind the mimber there 
has told me a hunder times by the smallest com- 
putation of his intense admiration of your tal- 
ents, and the wonderful sthir they were making 
in the world. He can’t bear a rival. He’s mad 
with envy, hatred, oncharatableness. Look at 
him, Plush, and look at me. My father was 
not a juke exactly, nor aven a markis, and see, 
nevertheliss, to what a pitch I am come. I 
spare no ixpinse; I’m the iditor of a cople of 


Mr. Yellowplush’s Ajew. 223 

pariodicals; I dthrive about in me carridge; I 
dine wid the lords of the land ; and why — in the 
name of the piper that pleed before Mosus, why ? 
Because I’m a litherary man. Because I know 
how to play me cards. Because I’m Docther 
Larner, in fact, and mimber of every society in 
and out of Europe. I might have remained all 
my life in Thrinity Colledge, and never made 
such an incom as that offered you by Sir Jan; 
but I came to London — to London, my boy, and 
now see! Look again at me friend Bullwig. 
He is a gentleman, to be sure, and bad luck to 
’im, I say; and what has been the result of his 
litherary labor ? I’ll tell you what ; and I’ll tell 
this gintale society, by the shade of Saint Pat- 
rick, they’re going to make him a barinet.” 

“A barnet. Doctor!” says I; “you don’t 
mean to say they’re going to make him a bar- 
net!” 

“As sure as I’ve made meself a docthor,” says 
Larner. 

“What, a baronet, like Sir J ohn ?” 

“The divle a bit else.” 

“And pray what for?” 

“What faw?” says Bullwig. “Ask the his- 
towy of litewatuwe what faw? Ask Colburn, 
ask Bentley, ask Saunders and Otley, ask the 
gweat Bwitish nation, what faw? The blood 


224: • The Yellowplush Papers. 

in my veins comes puwefied thwough ten thou- 
sand years of chivalwous ancestwy; but that is 
neither here nor there : my political pwinciples 
— the equal wight which I have advocated — the 
gweat cause of fweedom that I have celebwated, 
are known to all. But this, I confess, has noth- 
ing to do with the question. No, the question 
is this — on the thwone of litewature I stand un- 
wivaled, pwe-eminent; and the Bwitish govern- 
ment, honowing genius in me, compliments the 
Bwitish nation by lifting into the bosom of the 
heweditawy nobility the most gifted member of 
the democwacy.” (The honrabble genlmn here 
sunk down amidst repeated cheers.) 

“Sir John,” says I, “and my lord duke, the 
words of my rivrint frend Ignatius, and the re r 
marks of the honrabble genlmn who has just 
sate down, have made me change the detummi- 
nation which I had the honor of igspressing just 
now. 

“I igsept the eighty pound a year; knowing 
that I shall have plenty of time for pursuing 
my littery career, and hoping some day to set 
on that same bentch of barranites, which is deck- 
arated by the presnts of my honrabble frend. 

“Why shooden I ? It’s trew I ain’t done any- 
think as yet to deserve such an honor; and it’s 
probable that I never shall. But what then? — 


Mr. Yellowplush’s Ajew. 225 

quaw dong , as our friends say? I’d much ray- 
ther have a coat-of-arms than a coat of livry. 
I’d much rayther have my blue-red hand spral- 
ink in the middle of a shield than underneath a 
tea-tray. A barranit I will be; and, in consi- 
quints, must cease to be a footmin. 

As to my politticle princepills, these, I con- 
fess, ain’t settled : they are, I know, necessary ; 
but they ain’t necessary until askt for; besides, 
I reglar read the Sattarist newspaper, and so 
ignirince on this pint would be inigscusable. 

“But if one man can git to be a doctor, and 
another a barranit, and another a capting in 
the navy, and another a countess, and another 
the wife of a governor of the Cape of Good 
Hope, I begin to perseave that the littery trade 
ain’t such a very bad un; igspecially if you’re 
up to snough, and know what’s o’clock. I’ll 
learn to make myself usefle, in the fust place; 
then I’ll larn to spell ; and, I trust, by reading 
the novvles of the honrabble member, and the 
scientafick treatiseses of the reverend doctor, I 
may find the secrit of suxess, and git a litell for 
my own share. I’ve sevral f rends in the press, 
having paid for many of those chaps’ drink, and 
given them other treets ; and so I think I’ve got 
all the emilents of suxess; therefore, I am de- 
tummined, as I said, to igsept your kind offer, 


226 The Yellowplush Papers. 

and beg to withdraw the wuds which I made 
yous of when I refyoused your hoxpatable offer. 
I must, however ” 

“I wish you’d withdraw yourself,” said Sir 
John, bursting into a most igstrorinary rage, 
“and not interrupt the company with your in- 
fernal talk ! Go down, and get us coffee : and, 
heark ye ! hold your impertinent tongue, or I’ll 
break every bone in your body. You shall have 
the place, as I said ; and while you’re in my ser- 
vice, you shall be my servant ; but you don’t stay 
in my service after to-morrow. Go down stairs, 
sir ; and don’t stand staring here !” 

****** 

In this abrupt way, my evening ended: it’s 
with a melancholy regret that I think what 
came of it. I don’t wear plush any more. I 
am an altered, a wiser, and, I trust, a better 
man. 

I’m about a novvle (having made great prog- 
riss in spelling), in the style of my friend Bull- 
wig; and preparing for publigation, in the 
Doctor’s Cyclopedear, “The Lives of Eminent 
British and Foring Wosherwomen.’' 


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